


Invius

by PlanetZero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlanetZero/pseuds/PlanetZero
Summary: Neville and Harry, now going by the name of Ash, have grown up around Mucro School. But its not just a school for light hearted students who's only ambition is to achieve their Charms NEWT. Voldemort is taking over and limiting the status of everyone bar the elite. While the mysterious Assassin Invius is making life more difficult for the supposed dark side.
Kudos: 1





	1. A New Begining

School had ended, and Harry’s legs were like mush. The blisters on his feet had long since been popped thanks to running from Dudley in ill filling shoes for so long. They were so far away from the fastest way home, Harry doubted that Dudley’s gang even new the best way to get back. Not that he expected them to, Harry had deliberately run them in circles on little known streets.

A breeze of pure cold ran through his body, chilling him to the bone. Up ahead was a park, not as nice as the one in the schoolyard. And not paroled by teachers ether. Harry remembered Pears had hung him upside down on the monkey bars using a younger kid's jump rope and left harry hanging there for an hour. He was 4. After they had left, Harry managed to get a hold of the rope holding him. It had taken him a few tries, and his ankles hurt all the while. But after he got hold of the rope, he thought of fire and light and severing. The rope burned through. With a thud, he hit the ground hard.

Harry saw the place that he was aiming for. The library. It was on the other side of the park, and whenever he had tried to get across, Dudley’s gang caught him. Running in open spaces always ended in disaster. Harry didn't know why, but if ever he wanted to, he could burn things. He had gotten a smug smile that wouldn’t go away for 3 days when he lit the stove without touching anything.

One night when he was 6, Uncle Vernon  _ accidentally _ locked the door when Harry wasn't there. It was raining, he had nothing more than a t shirt and pants on and was already shivering. He had gotten into the garden shed and made a small fire in his hands. Laying it on the ground and was surprised when it stayed. Harry had spent the whole night practising with his fire. Before he could leave the shed to be just outside the house when uncle Vernon left for work, the shed door opened. Uncle Vernon's face turned white as he saw the fire on the ground, then his face contorted into a mask of uncontrollable rage. Uncle Vernon didn't show up for work that day, and Harry had one of the worst beatings of his life.

Mentally shaking his head free of those memories, Harry ran up the stairs of the library. There was a library at school. The books that he couldn't fully understand where better than dealing with Dudley outside. Harry had found spending most of his time reading, and although he didn't understand everything he thought he had a better grasp of most. Harry had stolon one of Dudley's books when he was almost 5, it was one of his favorites. After he had taken it, Aunt Petunia had gotten another copy. Harry spent most of his nights at that time listening to aunt Petunia read the book, and slowly, he was able to do it himself.

When he entered the front doors of the building, he quickly ran to the back and closed the bathroom door. He was quite experienced in escaping pursuit and he knew that the best way to get caught was to stay in the open.

After washing his feet with soap and water. Aunt Petunia had told him quite harshly that his burn from cooking the bacon would get infected if he didn’t clean out the blister. Harry didn't know what infection was, but he had gathered from Dudley's TV shows that infections were not a good thing. He always made sure to clean out his cuts to prevent them.

After sitting on the counter and washing his feet. Cleaned and dried his hair and gotten all of the spots of mud that he could out of his rags, he exited the washroom. He was happy to see no one there.

Harry made his way to the brightly coloured section of the library. There were other kids there, with their parents. Harry wasn't quite so keen on going into that area anymore. Everyone at school tormented him.

But he had looked at the bigger books before. They where far too complected, so he made himself suck it up and closer. Staying on the outside of the kids' section, he scanned the shelves. All the interesting books about dragons and play dates where further towards the center of the section. He looked up again to see Sally. A 4th year who loved gossiping about him.

Coughing low and scanning the shelves, he noticed with a little excitement that there where all the different grade books unto grade 5. Sometimes, Harry hated the fact that he was better in school than Dudley. He found learning things just so fun and interesting. Harry grabbed the 2nd year book off the shelf as soon as he saw it.

Walking over to a shadowed section of the library, he sat down on a chair that made him sit uncomfortably straight and opened the book.

It was a large book, bigger than anything he had ever read. He was so enthralled that he only when he heard the chime for 4 o’clock go off he scurried off the chair and put the book back on the shelf. He would need to get back home quickly to make dinner.

Harry came back the next day after school and then the next. Aunt Petunia never seemed to notice. It was lucky that the library was sort of between his school and home. So technically he wasn't lying when he said that it took him a long time to get back home. As long as he finished the chores and cooked their food. Nothing was said.

Harry took one of the pens from the front desk. And when someone was there, which, as he observed happened faster if someone rang the bell. Not that Harry ever did this. Attention had always resulted in bad things happening at home. So he kept his head down and only approached the desk when someone was there.

Before walking up to the front desk, Harry took his glasses off and rubbed them on one of the dirtiest parts of his pants. He wasn't quite sure why, but the colour of his eyes seemed to unnerve people. Once he had given uncle Vernon a glare when he had taken away his meals for two days because he didn't clean his suit properly. Harry, who knew that it was perfectly done, gave Vernon a look full of all of his anger and Vernon- Harry shuddered. It was better just to keep his head down. Dulling the colour of his eyes was just another way he did that.

“Hello,” Harry said, making his expression as open as possible. The lady at the front desk gave him a mildly enjoyed look. He would have to work on that. “Can I please have one piece of paper.” Eyeing him again, she slid a blank piece of copy paper. “Thank you,” he said with his most charming smile and walked away. The lady was already helping the next customer, a man in a blue suit when he turned around.

School was a lot more boring now that he actually knew more than everyone else. Harry thought that the teachers had been fed lines about how horrible he was as a child and how he was such a trouble maker. Some of the teachers believed this, others, like Mrs. Jumper seemed at most skeptical But harry kept up a charming smile that was as open and as innocent as he could make it. He had been practicing his facial expressions on people in the library. Then his teachers started to leave him alone.

Home was much worse. Uncle Vernon thought that as he got older he could tolerate more physical abuse. Harry was just thankful that he had found an escape.

He wasn't even sure that his ‘family’ knew where he went, or if they even noticed.

Harry hadn't been to the library in over a week. Petunia, he refused to call her aunt anymore, had shaven off all his hair except for the fringe that covered his scar. The next morning, it was completely healed. His 8th birthday and soon he would be entering his 3rd year of education. Taking a piece of paper out of the recycling bins in the front desk, Harry began reading through the 5th year books. Harry didn't know what he would do after he had finished. Maybe he would ask the librarian to help him find a book for an older brother. That was a possibility. She seemed to like him more now.

The library always contained people. And because of the spot he had chosen, it was impossible to find him if you didn't know exactly where to look. Harry had discovered another strange thing about himself while in the library one day. It was 4 months after he first started coming more frequently and a friend of Dudley and his mother had come to the library, Malcolm was looking around, his face was pinched and he was looking for something interesting to do. Harry who had been on the other end of one of Malcolm's punches, who had grabbed him around the legs and tackled him to the ground, who had stolen Harry's sandwich and rubbed it in the sandbox, wished with all his being not to be seen. It was to his surprise then, when he looked down at himself and noticed that he was completely invisible.

It had taken harry another 2 months to control it completely. He had also discovered that he could do a kind of half-way invisible trick. Whenever he bumped into someone while invisible, or a book suddenly disappears form a table, funny looks and wipers fallowed. The half-invisible trick he used made people forget he was there. He used a lot at the Dursleys.

It was to his surprise then, when he noticed a man had come around the corner. There was only one bookshelf here, and it was facing the other detection. Harry had only found this place after memorizing the entire floor plan. And that was perfectly reasonable, but this man seemed to be intending to speak.

Harry hated talking, mostly because that meant that attention was on him. Things like that always ended badly at home.

“Hello,” The stranger said. Harry had gotten good at reading people at home. And this man almost seemed worried. Strange.

Harry gave a nod. “Hello, sir.”

“What's your name?” He asked.

“Harold.”

The man gave him a glance, Harry wasn’t quite sure what it meant.

“Shame,” he said. “I’m Kalum Grayson. The recruiter for Mucro school. I was looking for Harry Potter, do you know where he is?”

Harry twitched. “And how exactly, Mr. Grayson, was Mr. Potter entered it to your school?”

Grayson gave Harry a small smile. “Mr. Potter was entered into the school by his mother at the suggestion of one of her friends, Alice Longbottom when you were born.”

“I think that Mr. Potter would have asked how the school works,” Harry said with a sly smile. He hadn’t had fun talking to anyone before.

“Mucro is a private institute for 16 to 20 year olds and sometimes above. All of your fees include board and food. And we host you 10 months of the year.” Grayson gave him a look.

“I'm interested to know, Mr. Grayson, why you came to me, a kid sitting in the back of a library engaged in a wonderful book, instead of going to this harry potters guardians?” Harry said. He had heard Petunia telling Dudley stories about kids that got kidnapped by fallowing grown-ups.

Grayson gave him a considering look. “What do you know of your parent’s deaths?”

Harry frowned, that was strange, everything about this man was strange. So Harry just shrugged one shoulder and said, “according to the reliable sources of the Dursleys my parents where killed in a car crash.”

Grayson just looked at him. This was not the conversation he was expecting to have. Mucro was a small school that wasn’t regarded by the ministry. For one, it took students mostly after their owl year if they had Es or higher. Sense Dumbledore became headmaster it had faded obscurity. Grayson had just come out here to see him and tell Harry what was needed to achieve if he wanted to succeed in passing. This was out of his depth.

“Allow me to change the question, Harry, what do you know of magic?” Grayson smiled a little at the sudden look of understanding that crossed Harry’s face.

“I know that magic is often shown in books, Mr. Grayson.” Harry said.

Grayson took out a stick from his suit. It was an elegant stick harry thought, polished and a sense of-something was coming from inside it.

“I'm going to guess that that stick has nothing to do with the last question asked?” Harry said, his eyes fixed on it with something like awe.

Grayson chuckled. “This harry,” He said, looking into his eyes, “Is a wand. We can use it to do magic. Like this.  _ Lumos. _ ” 

Harry gasped as the tip of the wand started to glow a dull shade. Then, harry watched, transfixed, as it left the wand’s tip and moved towards him. Harry flinched back when the light came to close to him. Grayson dispelled it without a word. He eyed harry with one of those unreadable stares.

Harry just looked at the place where the light disappeared He didn't know how long he was like that until a thought crossed his mind. “My parents?”

Grayson sighed and looked away. “Look, Harry, I didn't know them very well, and I'm not really the person to tell you the whole story, but- some 30 odd years ago, a man who went by the name of Voldemort gathered power and started a war.” Harry noticed he winced slightly. “Don't say the name. It makes certain people nervous. Anyway, plenty of people fought back against him, and your parents were one of them. It became clear to the opposition of You-Know-Who, that's what most people call him, that he was hunting your parents. So they went into hiding. On the night of Halloween, when you were a year and a half old, he found your parents and killed them with what is known as a killing curse.” 

Grayson looked into Harry's eyes. “Here's the strange thing, when he turned his wand,” Grayson held up his stick for harry to see, “And cast the killing spell on you, it backfired, killing him.”

Harry was openly gaping at this point, “Is that really what happened? Harry asked, his voice squeaky. “I couldn't have done that, I was only a baby and-” He broke off.

Grayson shrugged tightly, “I don't know, personally I think that your mother had something to do with it, she was the best witch of her age.”

“Witch?”

“Its what us magical folk call ourselves, men are wizards and women are witches. Anyway, I think that You-Know-Who's death had nothing to do with you.” He looked hard at harry. “But not everybody thinks that. In fact, most don't. You are hailed as their saviour, the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry was back to openly gaping, then in the blink of an eye, he gave Grayson a suspicious glare. “Prove it.”

If Grayson was startled by Harry's shift in attention, he didn't show it. He just sighed and opened his copy of the Daily Prophet and tapped the front page with his wand. Harry stared in mute awe at the moving photographs. Grayson smiled a little at Harry’s expression. Laying it flat on the little floor space between them, he invited Harry to sit on the floor with him.

Harry turned the paper to get a better look at it.

On the front of the paper was a man in long clothes riding a stick on in the headlines read  _ Canada Wins Semifinals for the upcoming 1890 Quittage world Cup. _

Harry eyed the paper for a few more seconds, then flipped the page. He was amazed by the things he saw in here. Ways to clean homes and dishes that would make his chores so much easier, an article about different sports teams all around the world. New regulations about cauldron bottoms.Then he saw something that made his heart stop. There was his name in the paper.  _ The Boy-Who-Lived 8th birthday! Charity for St Mungo’s Children's Ward _ . Harry couldn't do anything but stare at the paper. Briefly going through, he saw his name. His breath hitched, there in the paper was the story about how his parents, Lily and James, died. It was all true.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there when he heard Grayson say “Harry.” He looked up imminently because ignoring people meant pain. Grayson swallowed. “How are you treated? At home. Are you well?”

Harry peered suspiciously at him. “I think that if you where to find that I am treated unfairly, complaints don't go very far.”

Grayson gave him another of those unreadable looks. “I see.” He shifted and reached into his pocket. Harry tensed, pooling magic in his hands in case he needed to flee. But Grayson only took out a brochure. Harry took it hesitantly. “Mucro’s brochure. It is a very private institution, and trains some of the best witches and wizards have come out of it.”

Harry gave it a glance. “I thought you needed to take a test to get in. How do you learn enough to take the test?”

Grayson gave him a smile. “Hogwarts,” Harry gave him a suspicious glance. “Is known to be the best school in Europe. Though that is somewhat debatable. It's the school where everyone in Britain is guaranteed a spot in the school on their 11th birthday.”

“And what is Murco?” Harry asked.

“Mucro is seen as a little known top rate institute who takes in top OWL, that's a test taken when Wizards are 16, and provides them with a faster track program to finish their end of school tests, called NEWTs, and help them find a mastery program. It's known to have 7 graduates a year.”

“And what is it actually?” Harry asked, looking hard at Grayson.

He gave Harry a positively vindictive smile. “You just wait and see.” Grayson stood up and Harry gestured harry to do the same. Harry rolled up the Daily Prophet and handed it back to Grayson.

“Kid, keep it, you might find some interesting things in there.” Harry nodded and folded it into quarters and stuck it in his pants, out of sight. He looked up at Grayson, he still wasn't sure he could trust him, but he seemed to care more than most. Or his attention was a sign of the opposite, at least he now knew the real story of how his parents died.

With an unashamed smile, he waved Grayson off and fallowed his path back home. The rout was old and familiar. It was one of the few things he could count on being the same. His thoughts wandered back to the paper on him. He was a Wizard. Not a freak. His mom and Dad were magical. There were schools to learn magic. It was so much to take in. So why- why did he live with normal people? Grayson said that he was famous. Famous for killing Voldemort. Harry wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Famous. Surely he could have gone to some other place. Inside the magical world.

Then he wasn't so sure. Having everyone’s eyes on you would be very hard. Especially for him. Maybe there were ways of magically changing your name. He would need to look into that. Disguises like his invisibility trick. Maybe he could change his face and hair and size. He didn't know.

Harry walked up the front and carefully wiped all of the dirt off of his shoes. He then opened the door and carefully walked inside. Taking off his shoes and putting them in the cupboard along with the Daily Prophet, he went into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen, cleaning all of the equipment she wouldn't dare let him touch.

“Boy, Vernon will be coming home soon. You need to have this,” she thrust a recipe of a Meat Loaf under his nose. “Done in an hour.” Unfortunately the manual said that the preparation time was an hour and a half, so harry braced himself and grabbed the carrots.

Halfway through his time he was putting the Loaf into the oven for 45 minutes when Dudley came into the kitchen. He gave Harry a positively malicious smile and lumbered off into the Living room and squatted down on one of the sofas. Harry twitched.

It was impossible to miss when Vernon came home. The time between when the car door opened and then closed was the longest that Harry had ever heard. Something was up. When he opened the door, Harry could instantly tell that this was a bad time to piss his Uncle off. His suit, that Harry was required to keep in pristine condition, was rumpled. Vernon's briefcase was barely closed and was brimming with papers. The worst was his face. He was glaring around and looking for something.

Harry had put some of his half-invisible magic, as he now knew it, on and wished to not be noticed. Unfortunately, it only worked to guide attention around him.

“Boy,” Vernon growled. Harry obediently came forward. “Take this up to my room.” He thrust the briefcase into Harry's arms. Harry barely managed not to fall. He was tiny and hated it. Harry wrapped his hands around the case and held on tightly, his hands were barely able to touch each other. He made it one step, two steps- Crash. The case had slipped from his hands, he watched as if in slow motion as it fell down, down. It broke open. Hundreds of tiny papers burst out of the opening like an explosion. Harry froze.

Vernon turned around, his face red with anger and punched harry, hard, in the gut. Harry fell backwards and hit his head on the edge of the stair. Vernon glared at him. “Fix this Freak.”

Harry didn't look at him. If he did, Harry was worried that Vernon would punch him again. The eerie unnatural green was the most obvious when he was pissed.

Harry’s skin crawled as he knelt down and started to stack the papers. Vernon gave him a grunt and moved into the kitchen, where Petunia was setting the table.

Harry gathered the rest of the papers stuffed them in the case. It was much easier to carry, Vernon must not have been very careful where how well he used up his space. He hauled it into Vernon and Petunia's room.

When he walked into the kitchen, Petunia looked at him as if he wasn't even worthy to be on the bottom of her shoe. “Cupboard. No food for 2 days,” Her voice was cruel and pinched. “You will learn not to trash my family’s things.” Squashing the icy fury, Harry made his way to the Cupboard.

Laying down on the cot, he was about to read the article on the  _ upcoming 1890 Quittage world Cup.  _ When he heard a streak of “Boy, how dare-! Trash our-! Good people-!” Harry hastily tossed the paper back into the corner of the cupboard, unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. Vernon wrenched the door open and saw the paper. Dragging Harry out by the angles, he knew better than to fight, he lay on the floor.

Vernon was standing over him. “How dare you ruin out food! You freak! It's isn't enough for your parents to get themselves killed, you have to spoil our normal lives with your freakish behavior!” Spittle from versions mouth was making its way onto Harry's face.

Harry was confused, it must have shown on his face because Vernon said. “You think it's funny to pour salt on all of own earned food. You think its funny, do you?”

The meatloaf recipe didn't call for that much salt. Harry remembered it did, however, contain an unorthodox amount of sugar. Oh. Harry wanted to scream. Dudley, Dudley switch the salt and sugar.

“And what’s this you’ve stolen. You ungrateful-” Vernon’s eyes fell upon the Daily Prophet. His face went from angry to purple. Harry's stomach dropped just before the first blow came. He saw stars. He barely registered that Vernon had kicked him in the face when the second blow came. Then the third. And then again, Harry was sure that one of his ribs was broken. That had only happened once. But Harry couldn't remember that. He couldn't remember anything. Nothing except pain. The next blow came, then the next. He was curled into a ball on the floor when he felt Dudley join his father.

The doorbell rang.

Vernon hauled harry into the cupboard and fixed the front mat so it covered the spots of blood on the floor. Petunia opened the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Dursleys. My name of Wilson Jonson from the Department of Education. I'm here to talk to you about your son. May I come in?” Wilson asked. He was holding a case with a fancy M carved into it.

As soon as the door was closed Jonson discreetly pointed his wand at the door and cast a silencing and locking spells. Tucking it back up his sleeve, he gave the Dursleys a charming smile and began to untie his shoes. Looking up to Mr. and Mrs. Dursleys he said “Can you prepare a sitting room. This might take a while.

“Why don't you just let me get my son’s reports-”

“There will be no need, Mr. Dursleys. I assure you, I have everything right here.” Johnson said, with a smile that only the nieve would think was real, he tapped his briefcase.

The Dursleys left him alone in the foyer to untie his other shoe. He stood up straighter and said, “Point me, Harry Potter.” He moved forward and was discussed to notice that it was pointing into the Cupboard under the stairs. He opened the door and gasped at the sight in front of him. Harry’s face had the beings of horrible bruises, and probably his chest and back too. He had a broken nose that was bleeding profusely and his arm appeared to be pointing in the wrong direction. Cursing himself self he cast a few spells to numb the pain, one to bind the arm, another to stop his nose from bleeding and a last to clean his clothes.

“Grayson,” He heard harry mutter. He smiled tightly.

“Yes, Harry, it's me.” He helped Harry get out of the cupboard and stand on his feet. Grayson with heals a scowl at how good Harry was at coping with pain.

As they walked into the Living room, Grayson cast  _ Petrificus Totalus _ three times, once on each Dursley. “So, here’s how it is going to go.” He prowled into the center of the Living room. Harry was slightly behind him. Obviously in pain and trying hard not to let it affect him. “You are going to tell us what is going with Harry and why. So anything you need to get off your chest, say it now. You do  _ not _ want to leave anything out and have me discover it and come back later.” Before he finished speaking, he had bound Vernon in ropes and undid the freezing charm.

Vernon started in a low growl about how Harry was left to “Impose on upstanding citizens.” How there was a letter about how “your Freak of a mother got her self killed.” They learned that the blood sacrifice was turned into wards. And how the “Dumble-Freak” said that they would be paid compensation for taking care of him. Finally how the when the took Harry in they “vowed to stomp the magic out of him.”

There was a tense silence. Then, Grayson said in a would-be calm voice “You are going to sign this paper.” He thrust a contract in Vernon's face. “Relinquishing all legal control and all magical control over to me. As Harry's guardian, this is possible, you have the final say on who is his magical guardian. He smeared at the flinch the whole family made when he said  _ magical _ . “You are also going to sign this paper.” He held up another contract, except this one was blue. “Saying that you will return all the money your were given on for the care of Harry Potter.” He took a breath. “And finally you will sign this, that will rename your charge both magically and legally.

He looked over at Harry who was trembling noticeably, and cast “ _ Stupefy, _ ” 3 times. “Harry, please look at me.” Harry’s eyes instantly flicked over to him. “I want to adopt you. And I think that the best thing is to change your name.” Grayson waited patiently while Harry absorbed this.

“Why did you wait so long?” Harry asked. His voice was raw and weak. He hated feeling like this.

“I cast a detection spell on that newspaper in the library. I needed to catch them in the act. They have made some deal with another wizard that put you here. I need to frighten them into signing the documents.” He smiled sadly. “No one should have to go through what you did. I'm so sorry that I couldn't come sooner. I had to arrive the magical way. There are detection wards around this house to pick up on that thing. I had to run the rest of the way”

Harry nodded slowly. Then, he smiled a little. “I've always liked the name Ash.”

Grayson nodded, a put the subcontract of names onto the adaption contract. Added a stipulation that Things that they said that the name Kalum Grayson would by excluded by all ministry of magic records associated with Harry Potter. It was to be filled through the Goblins. So that the only similarity between the Ash Grayson and Harry Potter would be their age and the time the papers where filled. For an extra fee, the Goblins could slow down or even give a paper to the ministry with an apology that something was filled a week ago and _ we are ever so sorry but it got lost _ . To blur the connection further.

“Enervate," Grayson said in a bored voice. All three Dursleys woke instantly.

“What is going on, Mom. Who is this man, Mom? I'm stuck, Mom, help me.” Harry gathered enough energy to scowl at Dudley.

“Harry,” Grayson said, spinning on his heal to face him. “I am going to teach you your first bit of magic.” He glanced back a Dudley.

Petunia's shriek of, “Don't you dare,” was so loud that Grayson was almost surprised that the silencing ward on the whole house didn't fall. 

“Its called the silencing charm. I'm sure you don't need more explanation.” Despite himself, Harry grinned. 

Grayson moved his wand in a very precise motion and said “ _Silencio_. Dudley abruptly shut up. “Now, down to business. He pulled the contracts off the table and held them informant of Vernon who glared hatefully at harry. Grayson undid the ropes on Vernon's top half and gave him a fountain pen. Vernon looked through the papers, relinquishing all control of harry potter over to Kalum Grayson. How Harry Potter’s name would be changed to Ash Grayson, this to was confidential. And how all money given to the Dursleys by the potters was to be returned to a specific vault in Gringotts. 

Vernon signed it. Grayson turned to Petunia and undid her top bindings. She stiffly took the pen and signed her name without even reading the contract.

Harry's eyes fell on Vernon. He repressed a shiver. Harry, no Ash was ready to get out of this place. He didn't trust Kalum  _ yet.  _ It was bound to be much better than the Dursleys. He turned back to Kalum, a question on his lips when Vernon moved. His legs were still tied together, but that didn't dampen the terror that effected Ash. Vernon lunged. Ash was too weak, too vulnerable, too- in his desperation he held out his hands. Ash’s broken arm twinged with pain. He stared in transfixed horror as Vernon came closer and closer. He barely saw Kalum turn around with panic on his face. Kalum was drawing his wand but it was too late. Ash knew it was too late. Just as his uncle was about to touch him, Harry’s brain kicked something into order.  _ Fire _ . 

Vernon’s screams where unearthly. Ash couldn't do anything but watch. His hands felt warm and comforted with the magical fire dancing around his fingers. Ash was sure that he would be smiling in pure delight at the feeling of magic and power flowing through his veins if he wasn't in shock. Distantly Ash saw Vernon’s mustache caught on fire, followed by his hair and clothes. His skin turned red, then a dark charcoal black. Ash watched with wide eyes how Vernon burnt to dust right before him. Harry never noticed that he was on his hands and knees, surrounded by a pile of ash.

With a wave of Kalum’s wand, he gathered up all of the dust and put it in one of aunt Petunia's vases. With another wave, Dudley and Petunia were frozen. He cast the obliterate spell and replaced their memories with that of a normal day. How Vernon hadn't been home over the week and she feared the worst. She signed off the adoption of Harry to the first person who was willing. Petunia didn’t even ask his name. He did the same spell on Dudley. 

Kalum sat down next to Ash. He was trembling a lot. “Do you want me to touch you?” Kalum asked wasn't steady. Ash flung into himself into his arms. Dry sobs were torn from his small frame, just loud enough to hear. Kalum just held him close and rocked back and forth. Ash tensed as Kalum stood. Keeping one arm around Harry, he picked up the vase of ashes and spread them in the back garden. Ash just watched Kalum's work, holding tighter to his suit.

Walking back into the house, Kalum took off all the enchantments on Petunia and Dudley and left them to wake in an hour.

Stepping out of the house and out of the range of the apperation alert ward, the Graysons disapparated.


	2. Neville's Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =H=A=R=R=Y==I=S==N=O=T==A==H=O=R=C=R=U=X=  
> I just wanted to make that quite clear. I know from personal experience how often these things get overlooked. The drama of a Horcrux being found in Harry’s scar is an arc that doesn't fit in here. Not to mention that I think that it is a tad overdone. 

For Neville Longbottom Mucro School was all that he had ever known. His grandmother had told him what some of the people did for a living around the campus. Neville was very careful around them. He avoided anyone with a knife on their person, not that they needed it. Their wands could do much worse. He just avoided everyone with a knife because it meant they were trained to kill. His grandmother had also told him about the metal pin that all the Guild’s assassins used. A small black piece of metal with a dagger intersecting a wand. Neville always saw them wear it on their lapel.

He had stayed away from these types of men and women at first. As he became more accustomed to them being around, he simply regarded them as another member of the market place. Neville’s Grandmother was a teacher at Mucro. She was a student at once upon a time. Augusta had told Neville stories about a hill she and her oldest friend used to play on when they were kids. That hill was where Neville was sitting now, eating his breakfast. Except the hill was very different. It had a large two-story building built on it. It was where most of the staff of the school lived.

The flat was, in Neville's opinion, the perfect size. His bedroom was just as wide as his bed, and if he kicked his legs off to the edge of his mattress, stretched his toes really far, he was just able to touch the other side of the wall. To make more space, his bed had been lifted and a desk put underneath. The rest of the walls were covered in bookshelves. All about the different types of magical and non-magical plants.

Neville was sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast with his nose in a book. Augusta Longbottom’s bedroom door opened and Neville turned to face her. “Good morning Gran,” he said, turning back to the book on the table. It was about muggles’ theory on how plants grew and it was fascinating. Augusta took two strides forward and snatched the book off the table and bonked it lightly on the back Neville's head.

“No reading while eating, who knows what Grayson would do to me if one of them got ruined.” She turned into the kitchen, her vibrant purple robe was covered by a black overcoat. And the only way to tell that she was a grandmother was the grey beginning to streak her hair. They had just celebrated Neville's 8th birthday, and it had been very exciting. There weren't any other children around, no one his age to play with. But he didn't mind.

The library was Neville's favorite building in his opinion. He had been going there since he had learned how to read. Neville knew every face, and had read every book in reach. All except for the upper-most floor. Augusta had said that's where all the knowledge on the more dangerous side of magic was kept. And how he would be able to look through it when he was older. For now, though, he would keep reading about his favorite subjects: Transfiguration, Charms and of course Herobology.

Neville's had asked his grandmother over and over for a wand, and although an old wand maker comes by every once and awhile her answer was always a firm, “No.” Even though he was frustrated about this, he knew why. It was written in one of the books that he had read. _A child who retrieves a wand before their magical core reaches the 3rd developmental stage, can make the child's wand and core extremely volatile and may even cause harm._

So he learned herbology. He would spend hours asking the local herbologists and potion makers everything about plants. He had even helped Julian Grarhook a man working at a local brewery create a simple boil cure.

Herbology was one of the reasons that he wanted to go to Hogwarts. The greenhouses were one of the biggest and most diverse in all of Europe. Hogwarts was also where his parents had gone.

Neville's was interrupted from his musings by his grandmother sitting back down on the dining room table. “Neville,” she said, looking straight at him. His grandmother had a frightening stare. “I need to tell you something.”

Neville put down his spoon and met her gaze evenly. “What is it, Gran.”

She smiled, it was a sad smile and not one he was used to seeing on his grandmother’s face. “Last night Kalum adopted a kid. He was named Harry Potter.” Neville stifled a gasp. His grandmother had endless stories to tell about how Alice was friends with his mother and the adventures that they had gotten up to. And frank who thought James was a prick. His grandmother had once told him that she had tried to get custody of him, on behalf of Alice, and failed. And of course, he knew the tail of harry potter, everyone did.

“Kalum adopted him and his name is now Ash Grayson, and I do not want this information getting out past this room, understand? You must never ever reveal the connection between Ash and Harry,” Neville nodded vigorously. “You must know he was treated horribly by his aunt and uncle. They treated him worse than any house elf, and gave him half the food.” Neville felt like he didn't want his cereal anymore.

Augusta smiled at him from across the table. “I tell you this, Neville, not to pity him. Nor even try to understand, because things like this can't just be understood. But to give him time. Recovery just takes time, and I want you to give him some of yours. Are you willing to do that?”

Neville smiled, yes he was willing.

It was 2 days later that he was allowed to see Ash. Neville had gone about his days as normal, but the thought of Ash Grayson had never left his mind. He would think about what he might like while reading, or what food he prefers while eating. What he likes to do in the middle of the day. Who he would like to spend time with, and would he like Neville?

After the afternoon on the 2nd day, Augusta came in and sat next to Neville who was pruning his waterlily. He looked up at her and his grandmother said that Ash Grayson was willing to have guests.

Neville followed his grandmother down the hall and up a set of stairs. She lead him to Grayson's apartment, number 203, and knocked on the door.

Kalum opened the door, and when his eyes fell on Augusta and then Neville he smiled. “Welcome, Augusta. Its good to see you again. Hello Neville, why don't you come inside.”

When Neville walked in, the first thing he noticed is that it was very clean. The kitchen counter was completely free of anything, as was the table and the couches. From the door, Neville could see the market place outside, unlike his window, which opened onto a marsh.

Neville sat with his grandmother on one of the stylish blue couches and waited while Kalum knocked on Ash’s door. It was the equivalent of his own room, Neville noted absently. A converted office.

The boy that came out of the room wasn't what he was expecting. And nothing like himself. Ash was pale, very pale. Unlike Neville, who spent a large amount of his time outdoors. His hair was black and went past his ears. His face was almost sickly looking and was kind of skeleton-like. Neville still had some of his baby fat.

What surprised Neville the most was the way Ash carried himself. He was standing tall and almost seemed to be oozing confidence. The confident air around him would make someone think again before messing with him, despite his age. Neville blinked and looked again. In his eyes, there was a haunted distance about him. Almost vulnerable. He held himself as though he might need to fight or run at any given moment.

So Neville adapted his own body stance, changing his posture form, Hi, its so Very Nice to Meet You. To more of a, I'm Not a Threat.

Neville caught Ash’s eye and he seemed to relax, just a little. He no longer seemed quite so close to running away. The look Ash sent Neville said quite clearly: I know what you just did. Neville smiled a little in response and Ash gave an even smaller smile in return.

The adults watched the exchange with sharp interest.

“Ash,” Augusta said. Neville noticed that his eyes instantly went to her. She smiled in a way that had always made Neville know that everything was alright and he relaxed again. “Kalum has told me that you enjoy reading.”

Ash smiled fondly. “I always enjoyed going to the library, I have always loved the smell of books. It was my favourite place to be.” Neville was about to ask why it was his favorite place and stopped himself.

“I've always found the library a comfortable place,” Neville said agreeably. “There is one about 5 minutes from here,” He smiled warmly. “It's huge.”

Ash smiled vaguely, “That sound interesting, I'm curious what kind of books a magical library holds.”

Neville nodded. “It's full of all different types of books both magical and non-magical. There’s even more that are in a different language, from all over the world.” Neville noted the interest in Ash’s eyes.

“What types of books did you read?” Neville almost cringed. He didn't want to sound so direct.

Ash did nothing more than blink. “I mostly read the course books for school,” He said with a stiff shrug. “There where some fiction books that caught my interest and some histories.”

“I think that you will find that there is much more variety in this library. Neville said confidently. “There are so many different magical professions along with the non-magical ones.”

Ash tilted head. “I would have thought jobs here where mostly the same as that on the non-magical side, with the notable exception of magic.”

Neville opened his mouth to respond then closed it again.

“Your mostly right, Ash,” Kalum said, looking at him fondly. “Although there are a few exceptions, the one that comes to mind is transfiguration and charms have no equivalent in the non-magical world.”

“I wasn't talking about that,” Ash said meekly. Neville noticed that Ash almost seemed to have caved in on himself. Before he could have said anything, however, Ash continued. “I was talking about carriers, not the subjects.”

Augusta nodded appreciatively. “Your completely right, Ash. Here there is a doctor and a chemist and an architect and a businessman. They all go by different names, but its all the same with the notable exception of magic.”

Ash smiled weakly at her. Neville wondered if it was a good or bad thing that Ash was no longer trying so hard to appear confident.

Ash looked sideways at Kalum and he smiled back.

“I think that that's enough for today,” Kalum said, standing up. They all said their goodbyes. Just as Neville was about to walk out the door, he gave Ash a small wave. Although Ash looked startled, he gave one right back.

Feeling much better, but very different, Neville made his way back to his apartment.

Neville went back to Ash’s house the day after that and was sure to bring an expandable bag full of books. Ash seemed to like not having to talk and Neville understood that. Pretty soon Ash accompanied Neville to the library. After only a week away from the Dursleys, Ash was looking much better.

When Ash first arrived at the library, Neville giggled at the awed expression on Ash’s face. Neville had given Ash a tour of the entire library. There were four main rooms. Five counting the large atrium when they first stepped foot in the library. There were two stories, and each was full of books. From the atrium, Ash and Neville could see the second story of books in between grand arches.

As Ash looked up, he gasped. Instead of a giant moving mural or windows to the sunny sky above, there was a model of the night sky. But no sky that Ash recognized. “You see over there?” Neville said, pointing over a bunch of desks that some people were reading at to a razed platform surrounded by a fancy bronze fence. There were plenty of levers and buttons. On them, there were numbers in a language that Ash couldn't read. “That’s where they control those stars. They can turn them back in time to predict what will happen in the future. It's amazing”

Ash nodded in agreement. Neville pointed to the upper floor on their right. “Hats where my Gran says they keep the more dangerous magic.” He said in a whisper. “The whole left side of the building is stuff I cant understand. I never really go in there. But it looks really interesting.” He lead Ash to the right side. “And over here is where I like to read.”

Neville showed Ash all the books on Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Herbology. Ash absently noticed that potions were one of the smaller sections. At the back was History. It took up over a third of the lower section there where honey comes of scrolled and books that were full of dust.

Ash absently picked one up. It was about the Ancient Egyptian wizards and how there was proof that they created the first flying ride able objects. Little plates of bronze with runes on them. The author says that archeologists were only able to uncover some of the runes and like most of the Ancient Egyptian language, is a mystery. It goes on to list all of the located bronze plates and all of their features. The book had plenty of drawings showing different ways that the Ancient Egyptian flying plates might have been used, along with their social status and recovery sight. Ash put the book down thinking that wizarding history was even more interesting than normal ones.

Ash and Neville were almost always seen in the library. Neville would give Ash a big pile of books on stuff that he found to be the most simple. At the beginning, Ash was a very slow reader. He would have had to ask Neville plenty of advice on what certain words meant, but gradually he devoured half as many books as Neville had.

Neville’s love of Herbology eventually drove him to explore all of the potions texts. Ash had once heard him say under his breath, “I never noticed how similar the two are.” He was flipping through a beginner's potions textbook and a list of magical plants and their properties. Comparing the two. Ash almost laughed out loud at the look on his face. He wouldn't have looked happier if he had found the cure to dragon pox.

While searching through the histories he had come across an interesting book on the history of runes, who had used them and their impact. Ash wasn't reading this book for the history. No, he had covered these events before, and although the impact of these magics was interesting. It wasn't why he was reading the book. It was the runes. He tried to uncover more of what they did and how, but they weren't in the history section.

It was to his luck then, when he and Neville were both on the couch at Augusta’s place when she commented on how nice it was that he was studying her field. Ash almost dropped his book in excitement. After not much prodding on Ash’s part and plenty of promises on Augusta’s, she agreed to teach him runes.

The next day, Augusta took him to the left side of the library. Around the center of the top floor, she stopped, seemingly satisfied. She pulled out a large text, the spine was almost as wide as Ash’s palm, and handed it to him. Ash almost got crushed under its weight. Absently, he thought how strong Augusta must be to do it with seemingly no effort.

Ash read one chapter, then the next and the next. Soon Augusta had him reading more, then when he finished those she began to give him problems. He had done the first one quite easily. Make a sheet of paper vibrate. Augusta said that it was the first step to making inanimate objects make noise, or play music. Her second was slightly harder, to change the vibrations based on how close a light was. The brighter the room, the more noise. The latest was the most challenging to make a fire burn a different colour was the first one that he challenged his thinking.

Ash could make his fire change colour, but he was sure that Augusta wanted him to write runes on the container its self. No, it wouldn't be the container, it would be right as the gas catches fire. The fire would power the runes and the runes would change the flames. The theory was sound, but actually doing it was a whole other issue.

Around winter Neville had started to prepare a speech on how to convince his grandmother to buy him a wand. Ash absently noted that he would have to switch out the points that boiled down to, “Because I want it.” Or, “Because doing magic is cool.”

“Oh come on,” Neville said, waving his glove covered hands around in an exasperated motion. It was winter, and although there where some warming charms covering the market place, nothing escaped the biting cold. “Don't you want to do magic. I'm tired of reading!”

“I can do some magic,” Ash said quietly. He almost flinched at how quickly Neville turned to stare at him. “Not much,” he added. “I was just able to do some to survive. I didn't like talking about it.”

Neville supposed that that made sense. “Well can you show me now?” Ash had nodded and practically dragged Neville into behind a snowbank just out of the range of the market place.

“I can do two things. kind of 3,” He said looking straight into Neville's eyes. “One.”

Neville blinked. Ash had completely disappeared. A smile forced its way onto Neville's face. “Can you imagine the pranks we can pull if you do this.” They had recently begun to cause mischief for their adults. It had started when Ash mentioned a prank that Dudley had pulled on his parents. It involved saran wrap over the toilet seat. What he didn't mention to Neville is that he had spent 4 days without food because of it. They had asked the local bakery for some and set it on up overnight. The resulting punishment was 2 days without seeing each other. Kalum, for the most part, seemed to be relieved that Ash could have fun.

“The second one is similar to the first. I think that it is like a notice-me-not charm.” When he put it on, Neville only seemed to see him when Ash was moving or looking straight at him.

“And the last?” Neville was practically bouncing in excitement.

Ash hesitated. And then shook his head. Neville eyed him. Then sat down with a crunch into the snow. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was much softer now. He acted this way whenever they toed the subject of Ash’s past.

Ash was very still, Neville couldn't make out the expression on his friend's face because his hood was all the way down. It was a long time before he said anything. “The last thing I can do is fire. And I don't do it because-” he both off.

Ash looked at his friend. Neville had never seen his eyes look so haunted. “Did anyone ever tell you the circumstances in which I left them?” Neville shook his head. “Well, I was in bad shape because Kalum wanted to catch them in the act, so to speak.” Neville didn't need any more details than that. “He told them to wait in the kitchen, I don't remember what the excuse was.” He stopped again. Neville saw that tears were running down Ash’s face. “He cast a spell on them and after that everything was a blur. Kalum had untied the top of their ropes to sign the forms.” Ash shrugged. “Fire was the thing that I have been able to do for forever. It might have saved my life from freezing to death a few times. I think I was 4 when I knew I could do it.” He swallowed. “That night when I left, my Uncle lunged at me. And I-I-” His voice cracked, and the tears were freely running down his face.

Neville was paralyzed, not because he didn't believe it. He had always known that there must be more to the story. But in the way that he didn't know what to do. So he just moved over. Ash didn't look at him when heard the crunch of the snow that meant Neville was moving. Neville moved his arm over the other’s shoulder. Ash flinched at first and almost seemed like he wanted Neville to let go but he didn't.

“What would have happened if your Uncle had got a hold of me,” Neville asked this was the softest Ash had ever heard it.

“Snapped my neck,” he said. Neville repressed a shudder at hearing the certainty in Ash’s voice.

“So either way one of you dies?” Neville asked. Ash gulped and nodded. “I’m glad you chose you.” He said confidently.

Ash turned to stare at him. “You aren't upset, I killed someone. I ended someone’s life. You aren't mad, or repulsed by-”

Neville cut him off. “It was self-defense. And this may be a moot point, but a lot of people here have killed. For a few its what the Guild has asked them to do. Killing rapist and mass murders and terrorists and even some political enemies that push for laws that make it much harder for the magical non-humans, and even some humans. Neville shrugged. “My gran says that without the guild the world would have gone to the dogs a long time ago.

Ash agreed. He had read plenty of texts about the anti-creature, anti-muggle and pro muggle and magical integration movements that ended because someone had mysteriously committed suicide So Ash just nodded and leaned into Neville’s shoulder.

Later that day Neville had opened up his mouth to start a speech in front of Kalum and Augusta, who had gathered them all together to have dinner when Ash interrupted. “We would like to know if we can have a wand.” Neville just looked at him irritatingly.

Kalum and Augusta had just looked at each other. Putting down his fork, Kalum said. “You do know why Hogwarts starts at age 11?” They nodded, they did know. Had been told so many times in fact. That didn't stop them from checking. “You know that your magical cores need to reach a developmental stage?”

“The third,” They answered in unison.

“And I also know,” Ash said, meteorically stepping forward. “That due to an excessive amount on incest among certain influential social circles, the Hogwarts acceptance age was razed for whatever reason, to the age of 11. Most muggle-born students reach stage 3 by the time they are 8, or even 7. But no one ever tests this, because, well. Purebloods and their bloody pure beliefs.”

The adults blinked, eventually they didn't spend as much time in the history section as he did.

“I'm a half-blood,” He shot Neville a triumphant look.

Neville spluttered. “Don't worry Neville. My Husband was a Half-blood with a muggle mother and your mother had ether muggle or muggle-born parents or grandparents. You should be just fine.” Augusta said.

“Now Ash, how do we know that you aren't pulling our legs here?” Kalum asked with a small smile.

Ash fished a book with a very small spine out of his book-bag. He had found it in the dustiest section of the histories. With much dramatic flair, he placed it on the table. After paging through the statistics and conclusion at the back, Augusta had handed it back to him with a smile. “Well,” She said. “It seems like we should see good old Hythan when he gets back from traveling. I will put a notice in one of his jars that he keeps outside his shop, so he knows that we are going to need his services.”

It was going to be anywhere from tomorrow to in a month that they would have to wait. So Ash and Neville sat back down on the couch to see if they could plan another prank, in a way only an invisible man could.


	3. Magic

Ash and Neville had been anxiously waiting for two weeks sense Kalum and Augusta had agreed of see about getting them a wand. Of course they would have to get their cores checked by the wand maker, but that had turned out to be a very simple task.

“Drink this,” Hythan said, thrusting a bottle of something that resembled the colour of mud under Neville's nose. There was a faint gold shimmer to it if he looked close enough. Ash knew from his reading that often the most subtle aspects of a potion were its most defining.

For what ever reason, in the letter that Hythan had sent the day before had told them explicitly not to eat anything 12 hours before they came into his shop. Ash and Neville found out exactly why when Neville vomited into a bucket that Hythan lazily conjured with his wand. He bent over to inspect the potion keenly. It was no longer a mud brown colour, but a blue with a hint of green. 

“Congratulations, Longbottom, you have reached the third stage...” He peered into the bucket again, “About a week ago.” 

Neville grinned.

“Now you, young mister Grayson. Come here, come here.” The man gestured him closer and held out another vile.

He grabbed the bottle and drank it in two gulps. The potion didn't taste like anything. It just felt slimy and a bit gooey going down. Seconds later, he too vomited. Ash examined the bucket. In the pail was a yellow jello-like fluid. In it were different streaks of red and green. 

Hythan looked at him with thinly veiled interest and not a little surprise. “Now that's very interesting, and it doesn't happen often.” He walked around his desk and began pulling wand boxes off of the shelves. “Both of you are able to do wand magic with out hurting your selves.” He concluded. “Although,” he paused, his attention fixed on Ash. “Your magic has been ready for some time. Tell me can you control some of your magic?” 

Ash nodded, looking straight at the wand maker. Searching for any emotion.

“Hmm, I thought so. Magical cores are stored throughout our bodies, like most magical creatures most of that energy is stored in and around our upper chest. Unlike most of the magical creatures, none of that magic is stored in our heads. The potion simply goes through the core and back out again. We could wait for it to go out the other side, but of course you wouldn't be able to eat anything for another 6 hours when the potion comes out the other end.” Hythan smirked. Neville and Ash’s grimaces conveyed exactly what they thought of that idea.

“The magical core has 5 stages. White, grey, blue, yellow and red. White is for new Born's, there is often never any accidental magic at this stage. Grey is where the accidental magic happens, from ages 2 and up. When the potion is blue that means that the magic has settled just enough that wand magic is possible. This stage is the most crucial, there must be an even distribution of all the main magical subjects. Its why Hogwarts has all wand classes except for potions, which requires a fundamental understanding of the ingredients to know how to use properly. And herobology goes much the same as potions. Most schools also sell their plants on the market, paying for some of the schools expenses. After the first three years more time is spent on other classes because the core has settled. After three years of magical teaching, the potion becomes yellow. With enough effort, weaker magical areas can be learned and mastered, but it will take more time and dedication.” He looked hard at Ash, “This will be your biggest trial when it comes to learning different areas of magic.” Hythan poked the bucket with Ash’s vomit and it moved in such a way to show a very large streak of red was visable. “And red is for mastery. Generally the colour of the potion will gradually change for shade to shade. The different types of magic being mastered all at once. I take it that you specialized in an area and you did it young?”

Ash nodded again. “Fire. I could control it sense I was four. I learned two different types of magic after about a year and a year and a half ago, but they are a small part of larger fields.”

Hythan peered at him. “Fire you say. I wonder...” Ash was about to ask about what when the old man disappeared into the back of his shop. He came back about 3 minutes later holding a piece of glass cut like a gem held onto by a string. The strangest part was the green glow that came from within the crystal. 

Hythan looked at Augusta and Kalum who seemed perfectly content to let Hythan do the talking. “What this is isn’t important. What it does is however... it will see if you are an elemental.” Ash sucked in a breath. He knew what elementals where. And by the look on Neville's face, he did too. Elemental magicals that where able to control all aspects of a given element with relative ease. They where very powerful and feared. Past ministry's of magic had had a capture on sight order for all elementals. The cells in Azcaban where all of the higher level death eaters were kept had been originally created for elementals. 

Ash was suddenly and for a brief moment unsure that he wanted to know whether or not he was an elemental. He decided to go for it. Reaching with his index finger he touched the crystal. It turned black.

Hythan blinked. “That was unexpected. First things first. You are not an elemental. The crystal analyses a wizards magic and shows a different color for different make ups of magic. A normal wizard would turn white or blue. And if you were an elemental it would have turned a bright purple. You are a wizard with an affinity,” Hythan looked down at the young boy in front of him. “When you use magic, Mr. Grayson. what do you feel?”

Ash grinned, “Powerful, elated, ecstatic energized. Like I could burn the whole place down and still be wrapped in its comforting embrace.”

“And what emotions do you put into the magic?” Hythan asked.

“What do you mean?”

Hythan sighed, looking down at his tapping foot. “You remember what I said earlier about being able to learn more magics besides the ones that you all ready know well, and how it will be a challenge?” Ash nodded hesitantly. “Well you are getting the effect of the spell simply by willing it. The magic does as you commands it to freely. I would theories that magic doesn't like to be bossed around out of emotions, and when you don’t do that it gives you a kind of thrill because it isn’t tainted by feelings.”

Ash nodded, he would have to look into magical theory and all of its thousand variations. 

“The problem is that you can no longer cast with emotions. It doesn’t mean that you can’t do magic when you are angry or sad, just that only your will will ever have an effect on your magic. This is too big a change to your magical core too late. You will never be able to cast esoteric spells.”

Ash swallowed, hard. He had knew which spell those were. All the spells that required emotions. Not being able to hold off tormentors could be a serious liability. Not to mentions the hundreds of rituals. There was nothing he could do about it. So he just nodded stiffly.

Hythan looked at him for another moment. “On to wands.” He said suddenly, turning to face the pile of wands on his desk. “Mr. Longbottom, please hold out your wand arm.” Neville did. Hythan put a twig in his hand. “Please hold that as if it were a wand.” Neville gripped it like a lifeline. “No, no. Like this, you are holding it to firmly. Now give it a flick. No, keep some tension in your wrist, its not a flimsy piece of string. That's to much. Yes, yes. Much better. Now when I give you a wand I want you to do this.” He gave a swish and flick motion that was in a charms textbook that Ash had read and Neville copied him. Hythan corrected him a few times and said, “You will need to treat your wand as an extension of your self. Not a tool. Wands chose the wizards, true, but its not nearly as sentient as most believe. Its an extension of your will. Treat it as such.” He seemed to be recursing a speech. After 4 more tries, Hythan deemed Neville good enough to try real wands.

He handed Neville box after box, wanting him to hold the wand and say what his feeling was. “There will be no foolish waving in my shop. There are priceless things in here that I don’t want smashed,” he had said. 

After about 20 or so wands, Neville had gotten one that worked for him. “That is a good wand. Loyal, very loyal, but it says interesting things about you, Mr. Longbottom.” Hythan smiled at Neville, making his strate teeth all the more visable. “Unicorn hair is very particular when it comes to who can use the wand properly. Wands with Unicorn hair isn’t as compatible with any wizard but its own. The core says what kind wand it is, its temperament so to speak. The wood reflects the wizard. Vine is an interesting choice. Vine is for those who seek a greater purpose and those whose personalities have hidden depths, and interesting combination. You have a future ahead of you, Mr. Longbottom, may this wand help you on this journey.”

He turned to Ash and handed him the stick. Neville, at least had seen people hold wands his whole life. It took Ash twice as long to hold the wand correctly. When he did, Hythan gave him some wands to try. At first he gave the same wands that he gave Neville when he first started trying wands. But quite quickly, there was a clear difference between the choices of wands. They must have tried them all in the back left corner of the shop when he found one that worked for him. 

“Pine and Dragonheartstring, a unique combination. Temperamental, that one is. Dragonheartstring creates powerful wands. They can quickly chose allegiance, faster than any other wand core might have. Pine, this one is probably the best wood you could get with your unique problem. Pine adapts the best to new spells and magic. Is for those who are independent and perhaps a bit mysterious. Wands made of pine are for those who are creative and intelligent. An interesting combination, seeing as Dragonheartstring is perhaps the wand core that is most inclined towards the dark.”

By the time that Neville and Ash made their way out of the shop, they were 26 gallons lighter and had their wands and new forearm wand holsters. 

The walk back through the market and up to the apartment was a quiet one.

“Wow,” Ash said eventually. “If I wanted a prophecy I would have gone to a seer.” That started the group laughing, but there was underlying tension that never left their minds. The future was going to be interesting.

Ash had stayed awake most of the night thinking about how he was going to learn about magic.

The next day Augusta agreed whole heartedly to teach them charms. They where starting on little buttons that A ugusta had found in an old jacket pocket that she never used anymore. 

“What you need to do is use that swish and flick motion that Hythan showed you.” She nodded appraisingly at their correct wand movements. “Now as you undoubtedly know, wand magic is controlled through not only wand movement, but incantation. The better you get at it the smaller the motion you have to do. In a few years, you woulnt even need the incantation, you will have used enough that simply thinking it will cause the spell to work properly.”

That was interesting. Ash thought to himself. He had read a book in the library about how there were far simpler ways to c reate spells to work with out incantations. Further  research was required.  For now though he would practice  _W_ _ingarduim Leviosa_ with Neville.

Neville got it on his  second try. Ash on the other hand was still working hard to get it to move on his 5 th . 

“Try visualizing it, Ash,” Kalum had called from the door to Augusta apartment. “Sometimes simply saying the words aren't enough. You need to will it to happen.”

Ash tried that. Then again and again until. 

“It moved!” Neville said excitedly. He was watching the button intently with his face in his palms. 

“That felt- different,” Ash said, absently scratching his chest. 

Kalum nodded, “I would have expected it to. Try it again.”

He did it again, “Yeah, its getting easier. The magic just feels strange. Impersonal.”

They practiced  the  levitating charm  until Kalum dragged Ash off to bed.

The next day they did  transfiguration. Neville had gotten it on his third try. Ash around his  107 th . “Transfiguration feels weird, its like my magic is fighting the magic that keeps that that matchstick a match stick.” 

“You know, over half of the people in Hogwarts don't even get that transfiguration on the first day.” Kalum had said absently, when they had been practicing for over six hours.

Neville just looked at him like he had grown horns while Ash was trying his hardest to transfigure the match. 

After a while,  Ash said that he needed to stop because, “I  don't feel  magically sore. I just feel like  I'm using a  muscle that I never used before.  Kind of like that  muscle's only use is stopping the rest of my magic from doing anything else, and its  exhausting. ”

After a week, it was Kalum’s turn to teach them something, and he chose dueling. Augusta muttered something that sounded a lot like “boys.” She rolled her eyes and said that she needed to create a lesson plan for the upcoming pre-exam classes. 

Kalum had taken them to a training area just north of the Market place and about a 15 minute walk f ro m home. Around them was a clump of trees and  beyond that was farmland with a few cows and here and there. In the center, however, was a large structure. Ash might have  considered it as a play ground if it  wasn't for the shear size of it. There were walls and monkey bars, 3 story  structures and balance beams. 

“Listen, kids. This is used by Mucro School to train for real life combat situations, I need you to be very cautious while you are here,” They both nodded vigorously. Anything for this. “I want you so stay away when ever you see anyone on it. Or alternatively,” He pointed to a bill board at the corner of the structure. “That is a time table, if you see a name booked at the time that you are here, comeback later. There may be stealth exercises, and you cant always tell at first glance if its in use. For now-” He sprinted off to the shed and unlocked it. Two seconds later he hauled out a wooded cross attached to a platform with a wooden ball on the top. He then took a t shirt out of the shed and put it over the dummy. The shirt said “Mucro,” and was riddled with moth holes. 

Kalum sat the dummy against a large wooden wall a part of the training structure. Ash saw that there where plenty of scorch marks all over the wall, along with some large gashes. They started out with the severing charm, Diffindo. _“_ The severing charm is but the most basic offensive magical spell. Often taught on the first year curriculum, puts a small cut in what ever the caster is aiming at. The wand movement is a clockwise 180 fallowed by a line in what ever shape the gash is to be. Try it.” He did the same wand motion and said “ _Diffindo.”_ A thin gash running from the top of the shoulder to the side of the hip formed on the moth ridden shirt.

Neville moved his wand and said the incantation. The first time, nothing happened. The second time, a small pale blue light shot out of Neville’s wand and hit the wall, 3 feet to the right of the target. The wall didn't even register a scratch. 

Ash got the charm on his 5 th try it  wasn't as bright as Neville’s, or as close to the target but it was better than  any other w and spell h e had tried. 

Kalum taught them a single use block charm Custodi _a, to prevent on coming spells._ “ Next time we come out here, I can teach you the rules of  professional d ue l l ing.”

Ash was grinning ear to ear on the way back. He was going to have a lot of fun with this.

Making his way up the stairs to the second story of the library, Ash took a left and then a right. It was right where Kalum had said it was. He was in the floor above the normal and safer texts.  Ash ran his fingers along the spines of the books and  suppressed a shiver. He  suddenly understood the difference between the 1 st and 2 nd stor ie s.  Illusions were one of the powers he wanted to spend more time mastering. He wanted to do it wandlessly, although he  wasn't sure if that was  possible now that he was focusing more of h is time on the wand.

Taking out a book with the title: A  beginners guide to  illusions. He opened it to  skim the table of contents. He smiled  despite himself. It looked very  challenging , there where some words he  hadn't even heard of before. Taking three other books with him he make his way back to the e ntrance and checked the books out to take home. 

“That's quite a stack of books you have there, young man,” A lady with a kind face said from behind him. She was wearing a navy blue robe and she was carrying enough books that she had to hold them in place with her other hand. Ash couldn't understand the language that the books where written in. Perhaps some old dialect from Asia.

He just gave a smile and said, “I do love reading.” Then he nodded to the stack of books in her hands. “I don't even understand what those could start to be in.”

She smiled a little sheepishly. “They are in a very old dialect of mandarin. I am doing a favour for a friend. He wants them translated into English.”

“You can speak mandarin?” He asked smiling a little more. 

She shook her head. “ I can read it, though.”

Ash looked at her quizzically trying to portray disbelief and curiosity, “I didn't really think that that was possible. How does it work?”

“Is much easier than you might think. You just need to know what the symbols mean and how they translate to another language.”

“So kind of like runes?” he asked, knowing the answer. He had been spending so much time on wand work that he had let his rune project get pushed to the side.

She nodded, “Exactly.” Then she seemed to realize something, “So sorry, I haven't introduced my self. I'm Lisa Smith.”

“Ash Grayson.”

She raised an eyebrow, “So your Grayson’s kid.”

“Yes I am,” he said simply. “Do you know him.” Ash fed his books through the scanner and put a card on the counter to be magically examined.

“Mhm, yes I know him. We used to work under the same office, International communication. Then he was moved to the administrative role for the school. Very important work.” Ash wasn't quite sure if she was being completely serious. “Any how, I bid you good day.”

As soon as Lisa was gone, Ash grabbed his books and sat down on a table and worked on his book of illusion spells. He read through the entire theory book in under an hour, and although he didn't understand everything, he was sure that it wouldn't take much longer. 

Casting a spell with his wand he made the glass of water in front of him change color. Just like with all of the other magic he had cast with a wand, it felt impersonal. He looked down at the theory book again. A large part of illusions was to visualize it and to will it to happen. Visualizing wasn't hard, and willing was even easier. He just needed to feel the magic changing the perspective of the object. Illusions were complex magic in that it doesn't change the object its self, nor does it warp minds to see what it wants to see. An Illusion is a complex field of magic willing magic to form an intangible film to represent what is seen. 

With a wand and incantation the film is created with out thinking about it. The only thing the caster must do is concentrate on is the object its self. 

After using the wand to change the color form clear to blue to yellow to a muddy paste to appear like moving flames and back to clear, he decided to try with out a wand. 

When ever he went invisible, he would never feel the egg sensation like the books described. He would feel his magic running around his skin creating the film that the book talked about. 

And when he tried that on the cup, it  disappeared. Ash made a face. And focused harder. He wanted it to look like a cup with a water with absolutely no ripples. The cup l ooked smooth with an ever so slight curve. N othing happened.

Sighing in frustration, Ash looked at the cup and with a flick of his wand he muttered “ _Finite Incantatem.”_ He reached out and moved the cup with the tip of his finger, the waves in the cup make it only half way up to the top of the cup before coming back down with a splash and creating another wave. Ash watched the cup until the water was still again. With a sigh, Ash returned to the book he was reading, looking back at the theory book and went back to work. 

The next day he met up with Neville and Kalum, it was raining cats and dogs, so Kalum decided to teach them an umbrella charm before going through a small courtyard to practice throwing jinxes at each other. 

The days passed  by with no effort it was  and as spring came Ash could be seen  practising jinxes at the wall when ever Neville was  busy with something else.  It was  beginning to become his  favourite thing besides his  illusion work,  and much less frustrating. Of which he worked on with Neville in the  library almost everyday. 

N eville seemed to find a breakthrough with his potions  research.  He was always seen with a potions textbook under his arm. Something had just clicked. He was reading through a copy of  _most potent potions_ . When Ash made a discovery of his own. 

He was sitting in the middle of the library and the dot that represented the sun was travelling rewards the horizon. Ash would have thought that the beautiful contraption was always in use, but, he supposed, that at some point it is free. Despite the late hour and the stars starting to come through the windows, the library was as bright as ever. 

Neville was behind him, absorbed in his book, when Ash said, “Ah-ha!” Neville looked up at him confused, until he looked over at the table Ash was working on and smiled. 

There on the table was Ash’s cup of water, except it didn't look like water, it looked like a cup of mud. Ash whipped the tiny droplets of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. His ruffled appearance didn't deter form the feverishly happy expression on his face. “I did it.” He exclaimed. “I did it with out a wand.” Neville's smile grew. He knew how long Ash had worked on this. 

Ash knew that illusions was a powerful branch of magic. An illusion master was a very powerful wizard. Capable of great Illusions. The downside was that illusions required total concentration from the caster. That was very hard to achieve on a massive scale that they were known for. Illusions were also almost useless to use in a duel, as the caster needed to be aware of every thing around them to survive. Master level illusionists were hired by the ministry, mostly to hide locations from muggles. For the right price an illusion could be hired for a private job. But such things were illegal. The common wizarding world of Europe was knew a bunch of basic illusions, the most practised is the disillusionment charm. Although the art has fallen out of practice over the centuries. Most illusionists were known by the ministry, and they kept an eye out or new ones. Most grand scale illusions take up to 5 years to complete. Diagon took 7 years to finish the illusions alone.

“The guild actually has a few accomplished illusionists,” Neville said, still looking at the cup.

Ash nodded. “ Yeah , they are mostly in southern  America and a couple in  Africa ,” He panted. That had really taken a lot out of him. ‘It should get  easier ,’ he thought. ‘Because if I did it once I can do it again.’ 

While Ash catched his breath, Neville went back to his book. “Ash, you know the difference between the male and female Flobberworm saliva?”

Ash looked up at him. “I know that the male Flobberworm is much smaller, producing less and is expensive. I would assume that it is more concentrated.”

Neville shook his head. “Its far more interesting than that. In the mating ritual, all the males clean off the female’s shell to get chosen. It picks up the sweat, or as its officially called, puss and mixes with the saliva.” Neville's eyes were sparkling with excitement as he talked. “It creates a substance that wizards have never been able to recreate in a lab. And is known to react badly with any category 9 potion. Creating a horrible gas that corrupts most living things. What do you think would happen in a category 9 if the male Flobberworm saliva is made stable?” Neville didn't give Ash any time to answer. Not that he would know what to say. “It neutralizes the second step, creating a runic potion that implodes if any living thing comes to near. Normally resulting in the brewers death because of their proximity to the c-”

He blinked and looked over Ash’s shoulder. Ash turned around only to see Lisa Smith. He smiled. “Hello miss Smith,” He said smoothly. 

“Its good to see you again, Ash,” she stepped around to face Neville properly. Extending her hand to him, she said. “Hello, young man, I'm Lisa Smith.”

Neville smiled warmly if not a little  warily. Ash barely noticed Neville's mask go up. “Hello, miss Smith. My name is Neville  Longbottom. ”  Neville took his hand back and said. “What brings you to the library?”

“I just had some books to return, I saw you and had to come say hi.” Nether Neville nor Ash mentioned the fact that the they were in the farthest desk from clerks. And in fact they were completely covered by a fuzzy glass wall. “What are you working on? Just out of curiosity, you know.”

Neville and Ash exchanged a glance. “I  like potions, and its very interesting. This is Moste Potente Potions.” He grimaced. “Some of them are quite  horrible. Torture potions, difficult brews.  B ut its mostly a lot of it’s theory. Most of the  horrific potions covers alot of the disasters brewers can make in  vivid , painful detail  and makes them into potions.”

“Are you interested in becoming a potions master?” she asked, looking intently at Neville, but for some reason she also seemed to be watching him closely for a reaction.

Neville frowned, looking over her shoulder at the golden colored wood panelling. “I don't know,” meeting her eyes again, he said. “I love plants, and I always thought I’d become a herobologist. But that seems less, I don't know... exiting... compared to potions.”

She  smiled and nodded. “You  don't need to choose right now anyway. The two of you are what, 7 and 10?”

They looked at her, insulted. “We are almost 8 and a half,” Ash said evenly. He was tiny and hated it. The nutrition potions helped him not look so skinny, but he wasn't as tall. Kalum thought he would always be on the small side of average. His mom wasn't all that tall, and his father average. He blamed the Dursleys. If he hadn't stayed in a cupboard. If he hadn't had no food. If he wasn't always beaten. If they never hurt him. If he wasn't such a freak. If he wasn't such a disappointment. If he wasn't such a waste of- Ash dragged his mind out of the dark spaces and abruptly realized that he was glaring at Smith. He grimaced to himself. After the first week, he managed to go on with out thinking about them at all. Only a second had passed, however, so she dismissed it. Probably thinking that he was just mad for thinking he was 7.

S he looked at him  apologetically , “Sorry, it’s just-”

“I’m small. I get it,” he said tightly, looking down at his books. The emotions surrounding the Dursleys where ones that he feared he would never be able to control.

Lisa coughed into her hand. “Right, sorry. Ash what are you reading?”

Ash looked up and catalogued the interest in her eyes. It was a lot more focused that when she was paying  attention to Neville. “ Illusions ,” he said  promptly. Ash was starting to get more uncomfortable  and having a harder time not showing it . 

She blinked and looked down at his books. There were charms on the  library to obscure a book in each booth if it was  checked out by that person. It was  originally created so that people  couldn't steal  each others work. He handed her the most basic book on  illusions. Once she touched it by herself, the charm failed, and she began to read through the table of contents.  Ash was always able to look at a book if it was checked out by him. He  wasn't able to read any of Neville’s books, only if he touched them with  no one else doing so. The Charm only extended around the working tables, however. 

After she was done, she handed it back to him with a strange smile. “ That's all very interesting, what do you plan to do with this?” Her long finger pointed at the book.

He smiled at her  mischievously. “I love learning for the sake of it, miss,” Ash said. “What more could I want?”

She gave him a soft smirk. “Nothing.”

“Speaking of nothing, what are you doing at the library?” Neville asked, completely at ease.

“Oh, I just came here form work. I wanted to relax, you know,” Lisa said.

Neville nodded solemnly. “Oh, I do know. After tending to a lot of painful plants, I just like to curl up in one of those soft chairs over there,” he pointed to a lounge near the entrance of the library. “But your job shouldn't be nearly so bad as the time the Venomous Tentacula wasn't watered for almost a week. It managed to suck all of the water out of its neighbours.” He gave a gentle laugh. “It wasn't happy. By the time gran found me, I was blue in the face. 3 days of rest and I was back on my feet with the poison out of my system.”

“Oh, you think that's bad. One time my mentor and I were infiltrating this place in Greece. I was acting like a complete rooky and I activated a rune on the floor.” She leaned forward excitedly, glad to have such an attentive audience. “I cast a shield right in time. However it didn't reach my feet in time and they got blown to bits. It was a simple curse as far as curses go, so they regrew some of my bones with my DNA in a bath of potions and attached it back onto my legs.” She shook her head jerkily. “That was the most bizarre feeling.”

Ash gasped. “That must have been  horrible ! Did your mentor survive?” His eyes were wide and fearful. Augusta and Kalum would have seen through it in a second. He was getting better though. Neville, though, he was nearly flawless. They only know he was up something if there was  evidence. He could only see through it because he was highly adept at reading peoples behaviour patterns.

She sighed looking down at her toes. “While I was bleeding out on in the ruins, he was left to kill the targ-” She looked up at them and blinked, a calculating look came over her face. She smirked and shook her head, exasperated. 

“Right, I need to be heading home now,” She straightened and turned.

“Your correct. Its a long way to the book return and the doors. You almost cant see it from here,” Neville said so casually that Ash had a hard time not breaking down into a fit of giggles. 

Her face was completely blank, but they could both tell that she was embarrassed. 

Once she left they just looked at  each other. Neville sighed and g lanced at his best friend.  Ash felt like he wa s n’t doing a good enough job at hiding all of his discomfort and confusion. “I  don't think that I can  concentrate any longer.” Ash mad e a noise of agreement as he packed the books into his bag. He kept the simplest one out how ever. The one that Lisa touched. Neville nodded his  approval before standing and walking  towards the exit. 

He hadn’t finished reading it, but it was far better than keeping something that the Assassin touched.  Droping it off was quick and took less than 10 seconds. People were rarely here this late. 

They walked in silence through the village. The cold seeping through their temperature regulated robes. It was always so cold here. The crunch of their feet against snow was the only sound until Neville said. “What do you think my gran will say?”


	4. One Step Closer Two Steps Sideways

** Ash **

As it turned out, Augusta had a great deal to say about the subject when they got home to their typical Thursday night get together. Kalum had been seated on the couch facing the doorway when they entered. Ash must have looked more worried than he noticed because Kalum’s face instantly registered concern. Augusta must have picked up on the mood as she quickly bustled them over to the sofa and hung their jackets in the foyer.

“Well?” She asked when she returned to find that absolutely nothing had changed.

Neville sighed, seeming to want to get it over with. “I think that the Assassins are interested in us. Actually, Ash over here is seemingly thier number one target is.” He waved his hand in Ash’s direction.

The silence was just as heavy as it was long.

Augusta's voice was tight. “And how exactly, Neville dear, did you manage to get your self in this situation?”

There was another long pause before Ash started to tell them about the woman he met at the counter and how Smith talked, or interrogated, them later in the Library. Neville cutting in every once and a while to give some insightful remark. Like how ill equip she seemed to be in the situation, that two 8-year-olds were able to see through her in a second.

“Lisa was in the International Communication Division when I first started working,” Kalum said, looking quite serious. “The Assassins were always in a different cell than us. I would sometimes see her in the office gathering information for her next job.” He grimaced. Ash understood the sentiment. The assassins were somewhat of a taboo subject in the Guild. The underbelly of the society. To be feared, respected and kept at a distance. They were almost treated as separate entities. Which, he found from his reading, that they kind of were.

The Guild preferred to look at themselves as the guardians of people and magic. In France, most of the manpower provided to the Muggleborns Family Protections Project was from the guild. Indeed the muggleborns weren't the only people to get protection. The MOM thought that the population of werewolves was around three hundred, however, it was in the thousands, all hidden in magical villages spread around France, England and Britain. 

There was an uncomfortable pause when Augusta spoke up. “I will get in contact with them and find out what is going on.”

She stood up and went over to the desk near the window and picked up the receiver on the telephone. Kalum had taken Ash and Neville to Diagon alley to see what the magical community was like. If he didn't know that the normal wizarding world was so un muggle like, he would have thought he had entered an amusement park. The Guild, on the other hand, seemed to be much more aware of the Muggle world.

After a few seconds of waiting, Augusta must have gotten someone on the other side. The clipped tones she used perfectly masked her anger to those who didn't know her. After some time saying that “no, she did not have an appointment,” “no she would not wait a week to book a meeting,” and “no, she was not a regular customer.” Neither Ash nor Neville flinched at the implications of that. She got the receptionist to agree to a meeting in three days' time. However, it was made clear that any discussions of Ash or Neville were to be had in their presence. When the connection was cut, Augusta put the receiver down with more force than was necessary.

The dinner that followed was the second quietest that they had had. There was only the stiff stilted small talk surrounding the Library. Neville kept everyone entertained with Herbology trivia. It seemed that his breakthrough with potions hadn't dampened his appreciation for plants. Kalum and Augusta were nervous, and it was rubbing off on Neville. 

“By the way. Gran, in the discussion of  _ Elitist _ _ Potions, _ Unspeakable was mentioned and I don't know what that means,” Neville asked.

Ash blinked, he was sure that Unspeakable was a term he had heard of before in connection with the Guild. But it was brief and indicated that they were an experimentation department of the Ministry of Magic. Despite his introspection, he didn't miss the glances the adults shared.

“The Unspeakables are a Department in the Ministry of Magic,” Kalum said in a deliberate voice as if he was walking around some minefield. “They function separately from the MOM and suppress dangerous magic. Thousands of years ago there was the Council of Curatrix. There reach extended far beyond Europe.” Ash blinked, he had read about the Council of the Curatrix in passing. It was allegedly the predecessor of the Guild. “However over the years, the Council was fractured. By country. By law. By religion. Despite the lack of unity, they kept to their original purpose. One such divide later became the Unspeakables. The French's own Department of Mysteries, simply known as the Research Division or Division de la Recherche, was known to be much smaller than its British counterpart. A ragtag group of researchers that were nevertheless not to be underestimated. The truth was far from it. The Council was split into three. The smallest of which was in Egypt and the majority in France, for it was there that the Council was founded. It is a secret few people outside the remanence of the Council of Curatrix are privy to. Even the French Minister of magic is unaware of our connections.”

“So why haven't I heard of all this before?” Neville sounded indignant.

Ash was, too, he was sure that he had read almost all of the most important historical events in the Library. And by the sound of it, the formation of this  _ Curatrix _ certainly fit the bill. It certainly seemed like something he would have found on a pedestal in the middle of the Library with flashing lettering above it citing the  _ Creation of the Guild _ .

Kalum looked like he was going to say something when Augusta cut him off. “The council is one of the Guild's most completely guarded secrets.” She said briskly. “Don't speak of it, don't go looking for it and don't even  _ think _ of it.” Both he and Neville looked taken aback.

Elegantly spearing a potato on the end of her fork she looked strangely determined. “Speaking of which,” She turned to Kalum. “9 is the age when Occlumency training is started. 8 and 6 months is hardly premature.”

Even though none of them glanced in his direction, he could almost feel the adult's eyes on him. According to Neville, Occlumency was taught to almost every pure and prominent half-blood from an early age to help mental prowess, increase memory and prevent psychic attacks. A tutor was required because mistakes made could have dire consequences. Despite glancing at a book on the second story of the Library simply titled:  _ Occlumency _ . He never questioned his friend's advice. He wanted knowledge, without the chance of getting locked away in his own mind, thank you very much.

Kalum smiled stiffly. “Perhaps, Augusta, this conversation can be had at some other point in time.”

Neville and Ash shared a glance and went back to their salad.

Ash looked up when a knock sounded on his bedroom door. The room no longer looked like Kalum's office. The magically expanded file cabinets were gone and so was the birch desk that had covered a good quarter of the floor space. The bookshelves remained, however, and although most of the books belonged to the Guild’s Library, and the rest was empty space, he was quite satisfied. Kalum had taken a leaf out of Augusta's book and raised the bed so that he could barely stand under it. A small desk was put underneath. There was a tight dark place in the corner where the desk cut off right behind the ladder. The light couldn't make its way through the thick blankets surrounding it, so no one could see the small mattress made out of duvet covers.

Sometimes when he woke up with a muffled sob and couldn't fall asleep because permanent light fixtures could only dim so much. The light was just so bright. He couldn't fall asleep because of the light it reminded him of the  _ fire. Light. Burning flesh. Screams. Fear. _ In his small space it felt safe, where no one could touch him.

“Come on in,” Ash called. Neville walked in to see him reading the  _ 3rd Addition to Hogwarts a History _ on a purple bean bag chair.

“You know,” Neville said casually, putting his feet through the bunk bed’s ladder’s bottom rungs and leaning forwards, bending his arms behind him so his face was not far from Ash’s own. “Gran told me that there have been more than one  _ Third Addition of Hogwarts a History _ ?”

Harry cocked his head to the side. “I did think it strange, you know. They were in two totally different sections on modern and pre-modern history. I had thought that it was a weird reprint or something.”

“Nope,” Neville smiled goofily. “According to Gran, there have been several reprints over the years. Then, strangely, the older versions get a ban. You know, 20 odd years after the statute of secrecy, there was a massive shift of what magic should and shouldn't be practised-”

“-The  _ Obviation  _ charm?” He asked looking thoughtful.

Neville nodded. “Ya, that was a big one, I think the killing curse was added to the prohibited spells list 5 years after. The  _ Imperious  _ a century after that. But that was because of something else. I forget what.”

“The Minister of Magic murdered his own family of 7. Pleaded the  _ Imperious _ , was executed …and was later found to be innocent. I don't remember his name.”

Neville sighed dramatically. “Aren't you the bloody encyclopedia. I cant teach you anything anymore! I remember when you wanted me to teach you how to read words like  _ consequences _ .”

“I just like history. It was the one subject I was allowed to do quite well on,” he said with his eyes fixed back on the pages.

Neville reached out and gently pushed his book onto his lap. After a few seconds Ash met Neville's eyes. He could feel the compaction and concern radiating off him. Thankfully not pity. Never pity. He couldn't bear to think that. “Why don’t you tell me about your teacher,” his soft voice reminded him how much better he felt after talking about his family. For a split second Ash wondered it the tenderness was all an act. To coax out his deepest shames and secrets. Then it was gone. He had learned to trust Neville, whenever had that happened, and bonded over. Knowledge. And it was the closest bond he had ever formed with anyone, including Kalum. Neville too let his masks off completely around him. He wasn't even sure if he did that with his Gran.

Ash took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned back in the bean bag chair, causing it to shift with a crunch.

Just before he was going to open his mouth, the door opened, emitting a rather frazzled Kalum. “Neville, I told you we were leaving in 5 minutes and to go get Ash.” He looked over at him and gestured with his head. “Come on.”

Neville's mask of amiability was back by the time that he turned to look at him before Kalum’s voice cared into the room. “Come on!”

The Library was only the second biggest building on the campus. It was located in a rather prominent place near the market. It had a white dome roof that seemed to shine and the marble floors extended past the inside and out to the walkway. Stone bricks framed the door in a beautiful arch and the rest of the building stopping only to frame the gigantic windows.

The central offices, however, were located in a 3 story house with small windows dotted around the walls and looked to be the oldest building around. Locked to those who didn’t have a reason to enter. It was covered in mortar and where it was cracked, the old cobblestone could be seen under. The roof was made of red clay shingles that had almost no overhang. It was in between an old run-down pub and a fish store. The campus of Mucro wasn’t for only people that went to the school or where a part of the Guild. The odd tourist who dropped by might attribute the coldly recluse attitudes of the locals to an unsocial and isolated Town. Even muggles had access to the Village on their maps. The land home to a Town simply known as Borne, but only people who knew of the wizarding world could enter the village proper.

Augusta was first in the faded wood door. There was a receptionist behind the counter and he smiled at them as they entered. “We will be with you in just a moment,” He said before moving back to his work. Ash had come in just behind Neville and he caught the way Neville stilled when the receptionist, who’s name was Felix Tramp, according to the bronze plaque adorning his dark grey business suit, looked over at them.

Ash sat down on a chair made up entirely of wooded planks and right angles and looked around the room. There were 2 other exits not including the door back outside. One lead to a flight of stairs and the other to a hallway, at the end of which was a single door.

He looked around the room again, this time taking in the ceiling that was made up of white mortar. Only to be broken up by support beams crisscrossing and came to a point a few meters away from the center of the room to be held up by a ruff wooden post. The walls were made up of stone and worn wooden panelling. Although the inside, despite being old, didn't feel nearly as worn down as the outside.

Ash looked beside him, he was sure that only Augusta could tell how uncharacteristically stiff Neville had become, but his Gran seemed far to preoccupied with her thoughts to notice it.

They were there for half an hour when Tramp looked up at them and spoke in a polite but firm manner. “Professor Longbottom and Mister Grayson, can you and your charges please go to the end of the hall.”

They all stood up. Ash nodded to the receptionist as they passed. Taking a look behind the desk he wasn't very surprised to see all of the calenders and telephones. It was a surprise, however, to see the rows and rows of dials and nobs some with numbers and others with words, some he had seen before and others that he hadn’t. 

Looking towards the door once more, his feet not making a sound against the creaky wooden floor. Unlike Kalum, who seemed determined to make as much noise as possible, and Neville, who still wore a much more vacant expression than he was used to. Then Augusta, who had her lips pressed into a firm line and her gate brisk.

Opening the door leading to another room, there were three men sitting down on hand-carved chairs sitting around a circular mahogany table. There was a charmed window showing some mountain range in the Alps. If there was another door, Ash couldn't spot it. So he had no idea how the three other people in the room had got in. For some reason, he got the feeling that they didn't walk past the Reception desk on their way into the room.

Even more important, however where the three men sitting around the table. Upon seeing them, or perhaps the oldest, Kalum seemed to tighten up the way Uncle Vernon did whenever he talked about a superior. Even if the change was very subtle, he could still see it. Augusta’s lips pressed together until they where white, she was a teacher for Mucro, and Ash thought she might not be happy with her boss messing with her grandson.

The man at the head of the table smiled at them with an inviting wave of his hand. He had no glasses over his brown eyes. The man was old, with thick white hair styled in a wave, although his demeanour suggested that he was in his fifties than his hundreds. He was wearing the same grey robes the other two men where wearing. Mentally correcting himself when he looked at all of them again, on the older man’s right sat a woman.

Her face was impassive and her hair was as brown as her skin and cut so it wouldn't so much as dare touch her eyebrows or the back of her neck. Her robes where fitted slightly slimmer in the waist from what Ash could tell with the table in the way. She sat attentive and alert, but bored with the proceedings.

The last person looked to be in his thirties and had to have been wearing the most excited expression of all of them, he was wearing brown glasses that seemed to have a slight shimmer to them. Ash paused as the man’s eyes caught on to his. Interest seemed to radiate off of the man and Ash took in his appearance. He had thin short cut hair and was wearing the same cloak as the others, but Ash got the distinct impression that it was often covered in soot, plant matter and shards of metal. As if this was the first time that he had bothered to wash his things in weeks. 

By the time that he was done with his inspection and they where done with him, Augusta sat next to the man while Kalum sat next to the woman, leaving Neville and Ash eyeing each other from across the table. 

“You wished to speak with me, Augusta?” The old man said his attention on her.

“Yes, I did.” She said crisply. Augusta let the silence stretch. “A grandmother must always look after her charge.”

“Very true, very true. And you, Mr. Grayson?”

“I do believe that I have some concerns that I want to communicate with you about in regards to my son,” Kalum said in a carefully modulated voice.

Oliver smiled and turned to Neville and Ash. “Before we go any further, I noticed that we haven't introduced our selves. This young man is Nacarat, a curse breaker and magical theorist, an expert in his field.” Narcarat smiled in their direction. “To my right here sits Silver.” She gave him a once over. And Ash got a distinct impression that she was testing him. He gave her a shy smile and Silver nodded as if that had confirmed something and she dismissed him. “For the purposes of this meeting, young Mr. Longbottom and Grayson, you can call me Oliver.”

Ash got the ugly feeling that he was walking around in the dark. He couldn't see where he was, couldn't see where he was going and was completely blind to those in front of him. Of course, intellectually, he had known that there were layers and layers to the secrecy of the Guild. The fact that the Library made no mention of the Guild its self in name or these Unspeakables should have been proof enough for him. A part of him yearned to discover, to learn what these interesting people had to teach him. The much larger part wanted to stay unnoticed and continue along as he had. Sticking to the large Library and massive tomes about new and interesting magic. His first freedom was learning, however, and it was the one thing he treasured above all others. Right now, though, it was being overpowered by the absolute helplessness of the position he found himself in.

Ash just kept his face blank, thinking about how that was all he would be able to do in this situation. Looking over at Neville, he was doing fine. Catching his eye, Neville sent him a small smile. Turning back to Oliver. He said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Oliver.”

Neville repeated the greeting before Oliver’s attention was focused on Ash. “I must confess, a large part of why I express a great interest in you is because of your past.”

** Neville **

Ash’s face went blank. Truly blank. His face slackened and his eyes went dead and haunted.

Neville saw that the three adults in grey registered varying degrees of concern. Oliver was the most, looking as if he was quite upset to have caused that reaction and very weary and a little lost. Nacarat’s curiosity was replaced with an expression of sympathy and pity. Kalum looked a little green while Augusta was about to spit nails. Silver on the other hand looked at him for a long second and glanced at Neville as if to say ‘what are you going to do about this?’

“Well, now that that’s been covered,” Neville said in a slightly haughty drawl that never failed to get a bit of Ash’s attention and all of everyone else’s. “Why don't we continue this fascinating discussion about how we got your attention and what you want to do about it.”

“Indeed, Mr. Grayson, your history isn't all of what brought you here. Even though it is a very important topic and one we don't have any definitive proof for. It is heavily hypothesized around here that the only reason that Tom Riddle was vanquished was because of a blood sacrifice your mother prepared for you. It left a mark on you right there.” Nacarat pointed to his forehead. Silver on the other hand seemed almost bored with the proceedings. Neville was thankful, even if it was just a front. 

“Any ritualistic cuts are supposed to heal within minutes if not days after,” Augusta said, ignoring the name Tom Riddle. She wasn't as surprised as she thought she ought to have been.

“Of course,” Nacarat said, smiling. “I have some theories, plenty of them. But that is what makes it so fascinating. Lady Potter was one of the best witches to come out of Hogwarts, and I highly doubt that it was an error on her part. No, no. Its something else.” He seemed to barely restrain himself from saying more.

Ash said nothing and was carefully focusing on the wall behind Neville.

“And what would Ash have to do? Experimentation isn't something I take lightly.” Kalum said stiffly.

Neville winced slightly. They all seemed to be waiting for Ash to do something. It was probably worse in this situation that he continued to stare at the wall. 

After looking at Ash for a while everyone seemed stuck on words they either couldn't say or didn't want to push. Silver seemed to be passing over all of the adults and looking to Neville, who just swallowed. It wasn’t like he was in charge, that was Gran and Kalum’s job. But neither of them knew Ash as he did, he supposed. And Silver seemed to be aware of this. 

Shooting a small glare in Silver’s direction, who just quirked an eyebrow. Neville turned to his Gran and asked, “It seems like there are somethings that you need to discuss, perhaps Ash and I could go and wait in the sitting room and you can call us when you're done.”

“Oh, that wouldn't be necessary,” said Narcarat, glancing significantly at Oliver. Neville only just stopped glaring at him murderously.

Oliver just sighed, his grey robes sinking over his shoulders, and flicked something on his desk out of view. “Please just wait in the other room.”

Neville imminently stood up with a brisk “Thank you, sir.” And ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach when grabbing Ash’s hand mad him flinch, lead him out of the door. When he opened the door to the office, he wasn't in the least surprised when it lead them to a totally different sitting room. Focusing all of his attention on Ash, Neville sat him down on the couch opposite two armchairs. The whole set wouldn't have looked out of place in a lavish living room. 

Taking a look around the place, Neville froze. It was just as he remembered. From the dark green furniture to the dark wood panelling covering the bottom half of the walls and framing the doorway and ceiling. The silk grey and green wallpaper seemed to be mocking him by being flawless. As if it had never ever been covered in someone’s lifeblood. Controlling the need to scream, as he always did, he focused on what was really important.

Sitting down on the couch next to Ash, Neville looked up at the pristine ceiling, white squared divided by expensive-looking wooden framing bringing the ceiling half a foot closer to the floor than it needed to be.

“Thanks,” Ash croaked from beside him. 

Neville didn't stop looking at the ceiling. “No problem.”

There was a long pause when neither of them said anything. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” It was Ash who broke the silence.

“You know perfectly well that there are monitoring charms on this entire room,” Neville said. 

Ash just made a noncommittal humming sound.There was another long silence. “Are you going to go to Hogwarts?” Ash asked.

Neville made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and waved a dismissive hand before sighing. “You know my reasons.” He said in a tight voice and nothing more.

** Ash **

Ash knew that his reaction wasn't normal. Even for someone who was a house-elf to muggles. It took him a long time to forget about  _ Vernon _ . And he had been determined to keep it back for as long as possible. Now that it was no longer working and images of his face, bubbling from heat out of his head. Instead, he went back to breathing. One of the first things Kalum had taught him about relaxation. 

Pushing away from the gibbering panic at the edge of his mind, Ash observed his friend. It was unusual to see Neville wound up about anything. He had never seen Neville be anything but composed. And whatever it was he didn't want anyone else to know. Struggling away the feeling that Neville had kept something from him, he swallowed the rest of his fear and forced himself to lean into Neville’s shoulder.

Now that they were touching, he could feel that Neville was ever so slightly trembling. Looking up at his friend, who’s eyes were fixed to the ceiling with the most dead expression he had ever seen. Taking a deep breath he reached out and grabbed Neville's hand. As if he had been shocked, Neville pulled his hand away. Ash couldn't quite disguise the hurt that passed over his face. Neville took a breath and closed his eyes.

Not knowing what to do he withdrew from Neville’s side and curled into the corner of the cushion his back to the room and his face centimetres away from the cushions. 

Ash didn't know how long they stayed there, but neither of them moved. He couldn't help but feel even more helpless than when they left Oliver’s Office. Not the overriding panic of the Guild discovering his identity. But an overwhelming sense of despair and worthlessness. He didn't even care that there was a single tear running down his face. He watched it fall off his cheek with a sense of detachment and closed his eyes.

** Please Review **

**PlanetZero**


	5. TIED Down

Ash woke up in his bed with his sheets too tightly wound around him. He was still wearing the same white undershirt that he had put on that morning. Ash remembered nothing of coming back home.   
He struggled out of his blankets and sat bolt upright. Ash climbed down the rungs of the ladder and only the shuffling of his footsteps could be heard in the empty room. He opened the door a crack and he peered out into the area beyond. Permanent magical light fixtures couldn't dim all the way, and they cast an eerie glow that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. No one was in the living room and Kalum's door was closed. The curtains were pulled shut half-heartedly over the windows, letting rays of moonlight onto the floor.  
Ash shuffled over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. It sometimes hit him in moments like these how much his life had changed. He looked down at his glass of water cradled in his hand. 6 months ago he wouldn't have been able to have water in the middle of the night. Instead, waiting for Aunt Petunia to open the latch of his cupboard, or asking Vernon for a glass of water after finishing a long hour in the garden.  
He abruptly cut off the thought of his old life and then ruthlessly squashed any hint of Vernon's name especially.  
Instead, he thought about last night. How he forced his mind to think through the overwhelming panic. Neville had been terrified, too, though he couldn’t recall why. He remembered trying to reach out to Neville. Then Neville had pulled away.  
Ash put down the glass of water in his hand with more force than necessary and turned to go back to bed. Only to see that Kalum was standing in his doorway.  
Ash flinched in surprise and ignored the worried glance that Kalum shot him. Kalum had clearly just rolled out of bed. His black hair was all over the place and his blue eyes shown with concern. He had his nightgown on and was barefoot. Kalum opened his mouth, presumably to ask Ash how he was doing or why he was up in the middle of the night. Then, he seemed to think better of it.  
"How is hanging out with Neville going?" Well, that was abrupt. If it where Neville Ash was talking to, he would have found so many potential motives behind the simple inquiry that he was amazed that he was able to talk to him when they first met. If Neville had asked him that question, scenarios would arise ranging from 'I'm jellos that you are not hanging out with me,' to 'did you know that guy worked with the people that tortured my parents into insanity?'  
Talking with Kalum was relatively simple. No carefully worded remarks, subtle questions into his health meant to make him reveal more that he wanted to or pop trivia on the latest books in the library.  
"I like being around him, he does like many of the things I do. That I would have done anyway. Plus he's fun to talk to." Ash said and Kalum grimaced slightly at that.  
"I've always felt that Neville was a bit, well… cold," anger simmered behind Ash's eyes for a second before it was gone. Despite Kalum's posture indicating that he knew that bringing up Neville was travelling on thin ice, he didn't seem to have noticed Ash’s anger. Ash had to concede the point, Neville was nice, fun, smart and sarcastic, but that all combined to make him unapproachable. Plus there was the way he held himself with detached bemusement.   
And Kalum never came across as the kind of person to approach or understand such a person. Neville had lived around only adults, a library and his Gran who worked full time. The only time that Neville saw any interaction was behind a library book. Plus his very nature prevented him from approaching something unless he knew everything about it.  
"Yes, Neville does hold himself at a distance with people he isn’t comfortable around," Ash said with a careless shrug.  
Kalum seemed to be fighting the impulse to start wringing his hands. "And I've been wondering if that attitude towards your problems is not very healthy, after how you handled yourself yesterday it's clear to me that there is some seriously repress… feelings."  
Ash didn’t look at Kalum. He just glared down at his hands as if he was angry that they weren’t helping. It was better than looking at his guardian who was judging him. “Neville is the best friend I’ve ever had,” he said with conviction.  
"Neville is the only friend you have ever had," Kalum stated firmly. Then seeming to realize what he had just said and quickly backtracked. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have very good knowledge of what is the basis of a healthy friendship. I don't want you to become dependent on Neville because he is the first your age to have ever shown you kindness."  
"You think Neville is using me?"Ash spluttered. Mostly because he couldn't care that was losing control of his emotions. Also because playing it cool would confirm Kalum's fears that he was an unfeeling shell of an inferius.  
"Well I wouldn't put it quite like that," Kalum said indignantly. As if the mere notion of it was absurd. "But I think that his approach to handling his problems delaying your recovery."  
"My recovery of what?" He asked mulishly.  
"The Dursley's, Vernon's death. You just want to pretend it never even happened." Kalum stated matter of factly.  
Ash resisted a scowl. Kalum was right. Neville had even raided the section of psychology and kept trying to get him to open up and talk about what had happened. He was horribly blunt at first, making Ash read them himself to prevent from getting caught off guard. This in turn made Neville be more roundabout in his approach. He hadn't actually told Neville anything new after the talk in the snow. Maybe he should.  
Ash looked down into the glass in his hands, it was empty. On impulse, he stalked over to the counter and filled it with water. In this position, his back was to Kalum and he could feel the man’s gaze on the back of his neck.  
Kalum sighed and pulled himself onto the countertop. "Oliver wants you to learn Occlumency." Ash didn’t say anything. "Occlumency strengthens your mind using magic to prevent physic attacks-"  
"I know all that," Ash said irritably, still not looking at him.  
"Of course you do. Which means that any walls that you have created around your memories will be reinforced with magic." Kalum patiently said. "And just like how a ward must not completely cut off the flow of magic lest it explodes. The same cant is done with the mind."  
"What else did you and Oliver talk about?" He asked. Because he wanted to know, and partly because he didn't want to talk about them.  
"They want you to learn Occlumency soon. Many people here know it so it shouldn't be too hard to find you a tutor,” Kalum sighed through his nose. “The other things, however, I was very firm about saying no. Despite how insistent Silver was."  
Ash was very curious to ask who exactly Silver was. It was only now thinking about it that he noticed that she hadn't said anything about who she worked with. That meant she was probably an Unspeakable. Plus, he had a feeling that asking Kalum would only get him a noncommittal answer.  
“Is there anything else that I should know about?" Ash asked testily.  
Kalum pursed his lips for a moment before sighing. "Tomorrow Nacarat wants you to be in his lab for some preliminary testing. I was going to talk to you about it tomorrow at breakfast."  
"Thank you for telling me," he said bitterly. “I’d rather know you know things earlier rather than later." Ash regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. At the mention of earlier, Kalum’s face instantly returned to the determined concern that he had had while talking about Neville.  
"Neville is going to be attending to Occlumency lessons as soon as Augusta finds him a tutor," he said. "You are not going to go until I think that you are ready."  
Ash sighed and nodded his head dejectedly. He wondered how many hours he would be spending in the history section without someone to laugh at the stupidity of the military generals and make insightful comments about the culture. Maybe he could as Augusta if they could continue their lessons on runes. Despite her clear love for teaching, Augusta was always busy. Over time the lessons had petered out.  
Ash looked over Kalum's shoulder and tried to muffle the yawn that escaped his lips. Kalum just gave him a soft smile and told him to get back to bed. He left Ash alone to contemplate what they had talked about.   
Ash wasn't sure how long that he was staring into nothing. Abruptly pulling himself out of it he made his way over to the sink. Activating the runes using one of the first techniques that Augusta had taught him. After the drying cycle had finished, he picked up the glass and put it in the cupboard. He shook the heat out of his hands and wondered if he should add the wandless levitation spell to his repertoire.   
He looked contemplatively at his hands and wondered if it would be faster to learn the wandless or wand version of the spell. After struggling to apply himself with the illusion magic it was very posable that doing it wandlessly first was the better option. He frowned as the wandmaker’s words came back to him. How he would never be as good using a wand. And how, if he ever wanted a chance to be good using it, he would need to focus all of his magic on rewriting his magical pathways. So far, he hadn’t been doing it. For the first time, he was concerned that he was putting himself at a disadvantage. He hated being disadvantaged.  
Putting that off, he made his way over to his room and climbed into bed.  
The fire was all-consuming. A house with the number 4 printed on its front was held above the inferno on large polls. His uncle was standing on the front porch, his face was the ugly puce he turned when he was furious. His aunt was standing next to the stove cooking one of the most popular dishes in the household. She was screaming obscenities at him that he couldn't make out through the whooshing sounds of fire. He blinked and he was in front of the door, his uncle was towering above him, smiling. He held the makeshift whip that he had used the time he caught ash playing with fire. Ash blinked again and Vernon was a pile of embers on the ground. He looked over to petunia. One moment she was yelling at him furiously and the next she was a chard corpse on the ground. The remnants of a frying pan held in her hand. He turned to face his cousin with a smile. It was the kind of smile that he imagined Voldemort would have had when he murdered his parents or the Listranges when they tortured Neville's parents into insanity. He lifted his hand, whether or not he had a wand in his hand didn't matter to him. The incantation of the levitation spell floated through his brain. Dudley was kicking and screaming and was levitated, dropped and fell. He watched as his cousin disappeared in a roar of flame. All while he wore that same, cruel smile on his face.  
Ash awoke with a jolt and a strangled gasp. He wiped the cold sweat off his face. He climbed down the rungs of the latter on shaky limbs, made his way to his safe corner under his desk. All the while berating himself for not going straight thereafter the conversation about the Dursleys. He felt fury towards Kalum, then, for forcing him to talk about them. Because adding to his righteous anger was better than feeling the alternative.  
He closed the flap to his small safe space with trembling fingers he settled tried to keep the images from his mind using sheer force of will. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, or if he ever did. But when the glow of the magical overhead lights peeked through the cracks of the blankets, he decided that to get dressed. He was sure that Kalum didn't know about his safe space and he wanted to keep it that way.  
He grabbed a nondescript blue robe, his favourite colour, and put it on over a fresh set of black trainers. Combing his long hair to the side using the enchanted brush that was given to him by Kalum a month after he arrived. He declared himself ready for the day. Ash relieved himself in the bathroom and then tried, unsuccessful, to get the sleep out of his eyes. He would just have to treat the day as normal and hope that no one saw anything wrong.  
Kalum was had already put a pot of boiling water on the stove. Ash looked at it and determined that breakfast was going to be done in a few minutes.   
Not even ten seconds later Kalum opened his door and was still doing the buttons of his trousers. Ash, turned to face him, giving a soft smile and nonchalantly resting against the counter. Despite this, Kalum gave him a worried look while he stirred the oatmeal.  
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.  
"I did," Ash said, nodding. Either he wasn't convincing enough, reading him more clearly or something it was simply unbelievable. He could tell that Kalum didn’t buy it for a second.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. No, no he did not want to talk about. But the conversation from last night floated through his brain and he forced himself to answer the question.  
"Fire," he said. Ash tried to say it confidently. As if he was a teacher listing off words on a spelling test, but he couldn't. His voice went all tight and he had to repress the trembling that wanted to siege control of his body. It was in times like these that he was jealous of Neville’s poise and control.  
He turned around to get a glass of water from the cupboard when Kalum's voice made him freeze. "and what exactly did the fire do?" he asked in his most patient voice. It was the soft lecturing tone that he used whenever he had something petulantly stupid and was facing the consequences. And Ash didn’t like it.  
"Fire burns things," Ash said in a dejected, detached voice.  
"Separating yourself from your actions isn't helpful," he said as if he was quoting something.  
Well damn, he was also reading out of the psychology section. Even if that wasn't quite how the quote was used.  
"Well it does, it burns them and eats them up," he snapped. Ash couldn't keep his mouth shut, or the disgust and self-loathing out of his voice.  
He didn’t want to start wringing his hands, so he grabbed something off of the counter. Kalum’s mug of coffee, it turned out. He turned on his heel and stalked over to the sofa.  
There was silence for a long moment. Ash could barely make out the sound of Kalum working in the kitchen behind him. His voice a few moments later pulled him out of his mood.  
"I don't know how early Nacarat wants you to be there but I think that we should be getting going soon," to Ash relief and irritation, Kalum seemed to be pretending that the conversation had never happened.  
He turned to see the two bowls sitting on the counter. Ash walked over and pulled open the cupboard. Kalum never added more than a sprinkle of sugar. It was one of the things that he had loved when he had first come here. He could make the food as flavorful as he wanted. Ash pulled out the cocoa, cinnamon, peanut butter, milk, hemp seeds, blueberries, and of course, more sugar.  
Sitting next to Kalum, he began to eat his breakfast.  
The Headquarters was the same as when they went there the first time. They sat down on the stiff chairs while the receptionist kept a conspicuous eye on them. All too soon, Felix Trampe told them to go to the end of the hallway.  
Kalum went ahead of him and opened the door and stepped through. The walls around him looked to be made out of white-painted metal. The ceiling had real lights installed behind glass pains. Ash could see things through the windows. Not Windows, doors. Printed on them in white were instructions.  
"Where are we?" Ash asked.  
"I have no idea," Kalum said with a shrug. Ash looked at him sharply. "This is where the guild keeps its injured, research, data and weapons. Its location is kept secret and can only be entered through magical means. Can you imagine what would happen if this location was leaked?"  
Ash nodded his head slowly, because yes he could. "So what is this place called?"  
"Telecommunications, Injuries and Experimental Procedures." He said promptly. "Or TIED. Come on, we're going this way."  
He made his way to the door on the right. Ash spent his time reading the runes on the door. He wasn't as good at runes as he wanted to be, but he could make out its meaning. There was rune for a lack of sound, one for caution and a danger rune, but whether it was for decease or passive attacks he wasn't sure.  
"All of the signs and directions here are in runes. It's a universal language. Most people here speak French. Although there are people here from all over the world," he turned to look at Ash. "Speaking of which, French is another thing that you will need to learn. Most people in Borne are bilingual or even just English because this was the place chosen to guard the English library. But that's the exception."  
As they went down the hall they passed examination rooms some with some interesting set of machinery or others had their blinds drawn. There was one that they passed had a man converted in bandages and he had a tube down his throat. Ash shivered at the thought.  
They eventually made the way halfway down the hall. Ash looked at the runes on the door. Runes had a base of 7 so, doing a bit of math, he was able to read the number 12.  
The room was made out of the same white material that all thy me rest of the building. The two chairs sitting in front of a white desk were more comfortable than those in the front. To Kalum's right was a table for lying down on, and it looked less comfortable than a concrete floor.  
Ash turned his head at the sound of an opening door. Nacarat smiled at him as he came in. He wants no longer to wear his gray robe. Instead, Nacarat wore a white shirt with black pants. He was shorter than he remembered, his hair was short had streaks of white. The shirt was a turtle neck and had a healer's badge. His clothing wasn't made out of any cloth Ash recognized. It looked like a second skin, while still appearing like normal cloth. And it never wrinkled.  
He sat down in the chair opposite them and pulled out a folder. "I noticed your apprehension when knowing about your birth name. This is the standard folder automagically recorded."  
Nacarat then slid a folder, white, like everything else. It had his name printed on a tab along the top. When he picked it up it felt like plastic and was thinner than paper.  
Inside there was his birth certificate, an old and expired passport with a photo of him as a baby and he quickly flipped through all of the documents to see that they all had 'THIS IS A COPY' printed in red ink. There were all of his hospital, school and, surprisingly enough, library records in there. His breath got caught in his throat when he came across the adoption records with the verified Gringotts seal.  
He set them back down on the table and leaned back in his chair. Ash felt raw for some reason. Perhaps it was because he felt exposed and relieved all at once. Those records were all official, they were a matter of public record. And though it wasn't exactly comforting he was consoled at the thought that they must have that much information on anyone.  
Nacarat waited a moment, leaving him in thought. After a few moments, however, he stood up and gestured over to the table against the wall. Making his way over to the table, he asked, "What exactly will a full examination entail?" Nacarat pulled a stool that seemed to melt out of the table.  
"Don't worry. It's just a scan."  
The table sat in the corner futurist from the door. It looked like a metal box painted in the same white coating the whole place was smothered in. As Ash approached it, he noticed that the table came up above his waist. If the stool wasn't there, he would have had to jump to get on top of it. The table wasn't cold. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He tried to ignore the heat radiating off of the machine and concentrated on the fact that despite being made of metal, it was very comfortable.  
After he was settled, Narcarat pressed something out of Ash's line of sight. An intangible shield made of blue light formed around the table. Ash could feel a whirring machine spinning faster and faster, the louder the noise, the hotter the table became. The heat was now so oppressive that it seemed like it was a physical pressure on his body. When he was tempted to cover his ears with his hands, the whirring noise stopped and an eerie silence followed. He could feel his heart in his throat and the sweat on his forehead.  
Then, something clunked into place and stared at his feet. It was the scanner. It moved from the tips of his toes and up towards his knees, in its wake his legs felt as if they had been exposed to an arctic wind. Ash closed his eyes and tried not to panic. He concentrated on the numb cold rising in his chest. Ignored the thought of what it would do, what it could do when it reached his head. Breath in breath out. He was in his happy place, surrounded by snow and trees and hills that went on forever. He felt the cold on his neck and rising and his consecration broke.  
He opened his eyes to find that the shield was now a dark almost black red. It was so solid that he could see his reflection in the magic. He attempted to sit up, but he couldn't. In a blind panic, he tried to squirm. His breaths became short and fast while the scanner was at his chin. He couldn't feel anything besides the scanner and the magic burning through his veins. Ash wanted out and he wanted it now. He was trapped and Kalum, Kalum had done this to him! It was behind his eyes and he let out a scream. It was so cold that it burned! Waves and waves of pain crashed against each other forming a tidal wave that swept away and conscious or cohesive thought. He was drowning, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see and his ears were ringing like an explosion. And he was cold, so cold.  
Ash wasn't sure if he had been awake for an hour or half a second, but all of a sudden, he was aware that his eyes were open and he was laying down on a hard uncomfortable metal surface. He turned his head to see that he was still in the same room as before. Kalum and Nacarat were talking behind what must have been a silencing ward.  
As if his attention brought theirs, they both turned to look at him. Kalum smiled at him, and it was of the most forced smiles that he had seen on his face. Ash sat up, phantom pains shot through him like shards of ice. He grimaced took a deep breath and it out slowly.  
"What happened?" Ash asked, his voice felt raw in his throat. He didn't remember screaming at all, the whole thing was a blur of numb cold and pain.  
Nacarat coughed into his hand and said. "I don't know. I," He looked at Kalum for confirmation, "There is something resisting us, a ward was placed on you or attached to you, and it broke, or backed off or powered down- And it caused you eminence pain because there the scanner analysis magic, it shakes it up, makes is uncomfortable - for lack of a better word - adds energy more magical energy than your body can handle - the whole area heats up while some of that energy mingles with your natural magics and the scanner takes back what it gave and analyses the residue. But-"  
He waved his hands in frustration. "Something happened! I don't know what."  
Ash just looked at him. "Can I see the scan?"  
Nacarat scowled. "No, you cant its corrupted. He pressed a rune on the desk. A holographic image appeared.  
Blinking back surprise that magicals could create holograms, because of course they could, and looked at the thing that was supposed to represent his body. There were little beads of sand that emitted light of different hues His feet were fuzzy to the point that he couldn't see his toes. His kneecaps were distorted resemble two blurry lines and he couldn't make out where they stopped and his torso began for it looked liked it had been covered in a sandstorm. If his torso was in a sandstorm, then his head was the sandstorm. The holographic dots were only not covering the entire room because he could see the point where the projection stopped. creating a box around the entire image.  
"The yellow means the scanner cannot read what type of magic it's seeing," Nacarat said, starring intently at the projection. Ash noticed that there was a little bit of yellow at his toes. "And grey means that there is no magic to detect at all." The grey covered all of the rest of his body.  
They all just looked at the hologram for a while. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that I can’t influence my magic with my emotions?" Ash asked suddenly.  
Nacarat just looked at him for a long while. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. Looking at Ash with a gaze that made him feel more like a petri dish than a human being. “But it will require further testing.” Ash stiffened and Nacarat didn't seem to notice or care.  
Nacarat was silent for a few more moments, simply staring at the hologram. Then with a jolt he pulled his wand out from a wrist holster and gestured for Ash to sit.  
Ash forced himself to sit still while Nacarat chanted under his breath. He focused on his head. Something that Ash had expected. “Whatever it is, it appears to be connected to a specific part of your body.”  
“You know that this is Harry Potter we are talking about. The scar on-” Kalum said testily before Nacarat cut him off.  
“Yes, yes. I’m more than aware,” he said moving his wand in a circular pattern around Ash’s head, frowning slightly.  
Then Ash felt as if something inside him had fundamentally shifted inside of him. “Blood wards,” he muttered just loud enough for them to hear. “Sacrificial ones by the look of it,” he gave his wand a twist and hissed. “The cost was a willing death one a mother uses to protect a child, but it's been twisted.” He gave Ash another one of those long sympathetic stares. “Changing a the sacrifice from protecting you from a single entity to a cage to contain you and make you dependent on those of your mother's blood, if we weren’t surrounded with some of the best wards that magic can provide. Eventually draining your magic to support the magic of the wards without you there your and your relatives together. You would have been brought back to your relatives, regardless of the paperwork in Gringotts.”  
“Who?” Ash growled in a tone he hardly recognized as his own.  
Nacarat flipped open the folder on the desk and it imminently opened to a file he must have overlooked. It declared that after his parents' deaths he magical guardian Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore.  
Anger flared so brightly and hot that for once he didn’t care that he lost control. He didn't care how close the other two were to his outburst all he could think about was how he was left to suffer in prison while someone watched in the background.  
As soon as his magic left his body to burn his surroundings in a ball of fire it was blown out like a candle in a tornado. Being sucked into the very environment. No, not that, into Nacarat.  
His eyes glowed an unknowable colour and his brown hair lifted as if it was weightless. Then, as soon as it started it was over. The magic was absorbed into his very being. He looked at Ash in the same manner that someone would a dog who had just peed on the living room rug.  
Ash looked at the ground, absently kicking his legs against the side of the table before muttering as small “Sorry.”  
Nacarat just brushed it off, while Kalum looked about to start a lecture on the importance of self-control. Ash abruptly corrected his posture into one of astute interest and asked, “What do we do with this information?”  
“I can see if there is a way that I can remove the influence of Dumbledore without damaging the integrity of the sacrifice,” he took a deep breath and pointed his wand at his scar.  
It didn't take long before Ash felt a strange buzzing storm in his head. It started faraway and was approaching fast. And soon he couldn't feel anything but this mind-numbing haze. He was floating in a void of white noise, except he couldn't remember what floating was. Then all of a sudden, it was gone.  
The return to self-awareness was disorienting and he shook his head before his eyes were focused. He looked up to see that Nacarat had a deep frown on his face and Ash’s face intently registered his concern. “I think,” Nacarat said slowly as if he had to drag the words out of his mouth against their will. “That whoever placed the wards on Ash know that they have disapparated.”  
Ash’s face went completely blank and Kalum looked like a white sheet “Is that good?” Kalum asked very carefully.  
Nacarat just shrugged, his eyes contemplative. “It’s hard to tell. I think-” He tapped his chin with his finger. “That if he noticed that you were gone while the wards were in place, he would eventually know where you are. Or at least know that you were discovered by magicals and were living in a magical home that distorts detection. On the other hand,” He shrugged again. “He is now aware that you are either dead or his manipulations were detected, which will make him panic.”  
He waved his wand over Ash’s face again. “Why don't you lay down on the scanner,” Nacarat said with an excited smile on his face.  
“I think that that is enough for one day,” Kalum said. He stood up and gestured for Ash to follow. “When do you want to check up on him?”  
“Well, I need to know if there are any other side effects and we still don't know the extent of the injuries and malnutrition. All of which would be fixed when the scan is taken.”  
Kalum gave him a look that clearly said that that wouldn't be happening. “No less than a week,” He relented.  
Ash sighed in relief when they left the white monotony of the Telecommunications, Injuries and Excremental procedures’ decor. Kalum approached the front desk and asked for an appointment. Ash ignored the glare from the secretary that said that he was not pleased with having to deal with such things.  
They were silent the whole way back from the Headquarters and Ash knew what they were both thinking, how long was it until Dumbledore came knocking on Ash’s doorstep?


	6. Old Mans and New Plans

_ Neville _

Neville was in the middle of a lesson with Kalum and Ash learning how to charm an object to be silent when his grandmother franticly entered the room. It had been only one day since Ash had gone to TIED for his check-up. Ash had spoken of his experience in soft whispers that night while holding hot chocolate and their runic translation books. He didn't know what was going on with his grandmother. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was something to do with Ash’s problems from earlier.

He sat up immediately and raced towards his grandmother. “Get that off of you,” She said with a crisp flick of her hand. Neville looked down at the Mucro school hoodie that he was wearing. He sprinted into his room and heard Augusta call, “Wear something dirty.”

He came back out in the clothes he reserved for cleaning out the guardians and stuffed his feet into his shoes. Augusta lead them down into the town and towards Headquarters. “Dumbledore just showed up on our family home at 9 o’clock this morning,” Neville’s stomach went cold. He swallowed and nodded his head with confidence he did not feel. “I want you to maintain the cautious air that you have whenever you enter the rituals section of the library,” she said almost casually.

Neville flushed. He had gone there once with Augusta because he wanted to know how some of the runes they were learning were applied. All of the books had realistic drawings. A lot of them required sacrifices even more of them needed nudity. So his grandmother needing him to play the bumbling suck-up. He would have beamed in excitement if he wasn’t so terrified.

They entered Headquarters and went straight to the front desk. “If you would please take your seat I will be with you in a moment,” He said from behind the desk.

“I need to get to the Longbottom House,” She said, staring him down when he looked up at her with the most board expression that Neville had ever seen on a living person’s face and Neville resisted a shudder. It was the same expression that-

“Very well, Professor Longbottom,” he said with an expression that did not conceal his irritation in the least.

Augusta grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the door at the end of the hall. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to establish their roles or comfort herself. Neville let her do it either way.

The entrance to the Longbottom House through the Connected Doorways was into the master bedroom. Agusta stepped out of the wardrobe and onto the red-carpeted flooring. The room looked very lived in, even though they rarely spent any time at all here. The house-elves were under strict instructions to keep the space looking as inhabited as possible.

So when Neville stepped through, he was not surprised to find that there was a pile of clothes hung over the vanity cabinet. Or the books removed from the bookshelf at the back of the room placed on the bedside table. The fire was crackling in the side of the room and in the center was a bed. As large as any he had ever seen. It too had its sheets flicked in a manner that suggests a manner of carelessness.

Neville followed her out of the room. The hallways were dark. Only lighted by candles and tall windows at either end of the corridor. The same large red carpets followed them down the stairs and into the entry hall.

Neville stopped on the landing. Albus Dumbledore was standing there in all his glory. His face blanked in fear. He knew much about this man. Had studied his methods in the school and in the Wizangmot for years. He knew the man’s tactics for getting people to believe what he wanted because he had studied them, even used them. And now, he stopped, because the man was 10 times more intimidating than he had ever thought.

Neville forced the paralysis back and brought up a light blush. He imitated a goofy smile that he had once seen in a picture book. Neville projected bubbling excitement and skipped down the stairs with an eager pace before stopping before he got ahead of Augusta then waiting until she got far enough away that he trotted after her again.

Augusta shot him a hard look. It was not one he was at all used to. It made him seize up. Calling another blush to his face, he hunched over and kept a subdued pace behind his grandmother.

“Professor Dumbledore,” She said, voice crisp and stern. “It is an honour to have you in our home.”

“Lady Longbottom,” he said. His tone was kind and gentle, but also heald a great deal of wariness and regret. Neville found it strange to hear her being called by her inherited title instead of a professor. “I have a great deal to discuss with you about young Neville here.”

“Come then, I will get us some tea,” she said. Both he and Augusta ignored the presumed familiarity. “Krispy,” She said and a small elf in a blue pressed tea towel appeared at her elbow. “Prepare some tea for the lounge.” The elf only bowed and disappeared with a pop.

Neville briefly ran through his head what was going on. Dumbledore was in the Longbottom House. Unannounced. He had asked for Neville in particular, because otherwise, Augusta would never have gone all that way to get him. Neville’s gut had told him that it had something to do with breaking through Ash’s wards. So Dumbledore wanted Neville. The question was why?

He projected frantic worry into his thoughts. He had only studied  _ Occlumency  _ for a week. But it was all that he had, and he would make it work, he had to. It was also doubtful that he would try anything with Augusta standing right there. Working up the most panicked expression possible and pasting it on his face. “I really want to go to Hogwarts,” Neville blurted after ten steps of silence. “I know that you can only go if you are a wizard and I  _ know _ that I haven’t shown any magic. But  _ please _ , Professor. I really want to go. My parents went, and they were great people. And I really want to be brave like them. Please I’ll...”

Dumbledore interrupted him with a soft chuckle and a twinkle in his eye when he faced Neville. “Neville, my boy, you have nothing to fear. Your name is indeed down for Hogwarts. You need not fear about your magic. I know of great witches and wizards who were late bloomers,” He said this all with a reassuring smile, but Neville could sense that this troubled him. Great, Neville thought, so it  _ is  _ me he is here for.

He buried that thought and the fear that instilled in him.

“What house do you think you are going to?” Dumbledore’s voice was full of curiosity.

Neville made his shoulders go tight. “Hufflepuff.”

“He will be going into Gryffindor like his mother and father,” Augusta’s voice held a disappointment that he had never experienced before.

Augusta brought them to a room that was twice the size of their apartment in Mucro. There were three couches all around a glass table and facing a large fireplace. Neville always thought that this house was a perfect representation of the elegance that his Gran always carried herself with.

Dumbledore sat himself down on the couch directly across from the fire and waited patiently for Augusta and Neville to do the same.

They didn’t have to wait long before Dumbledore started to speak. “I suppose you are wondering why I had come on such short notice.” He continued without pause. “Unfortunately something grave has come up, very grave indeed.” Dumbledore turned to look fondly at Neville. “It’s just as fortunate that Neville can help me with it.”

“Perhaps, Dumbledore, you could be so kind to inform us what you are here for,” Augusta asked.

Dumbledore just smiled. “Ah, yes, yes. But before I do, I need to ask some questions about your grandson.” Augusta’s nostrils flared. He turned to look directly at Neville, who tried to melt into the furniture. “What kind of things do you like to learn about?”

Neville brought a small shy smile to his face and leaned forwards just slightly. “Plants,” he said in a near whisper.

Dumbledore’s face broke out into a broad grin. “Herbology, then. Tell me, Neville, what do you like about plants?”

Augusta’s look of disgust and embarrassment at the mention of Herbology, however, was not lost on Dumbledore.

Neville purposely leaned forward and spoke in a louder voice. “The  _ Venomous tentacula _ is my favourite,” he said. “It tries to grab you from behind, and when it does, it tries to  _ kill you _ !” With the increase of excitement in his voice he sat up straighter and began to look more confident. “Gran let me tend to the  _ Venomous tentacula _ for the first time just last week,” he was lying through his teeth. The first time he had touched the  _ Venomous tentacula _ what almost three years ago. He had even managed to get his Gran to agree to pot a breed that was far more docile and leave it on their windowsill. “I had to wear my winter coat, of course, they are very poisonous and I had my dragonhide gloves on. I’m glad Gran was there to make sure nothing went wrong.”

Neville watched with satisfaction as the jovial smile slowly faded from Dumbledore’s face. “Ah, Herbology. It’s not something I know much about myself, but Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts would love to talk to you about her plants. And our potions master, Professor Snape knows a lot on the subject as well.”

Augusta made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Severus is still working there, is he. I never liked him much. Frank always said that he was in with the bad crowd,” She let out a disdainful sniff. “Given his history, I’m surprised you let him teach at all.”

“I would trust Severus with my life,” Dumbledore said gravely.

She arched a perfect eyebrow. “And so does the board?”

“The Board of Governors trust my judgment to run the school,” his tone implied that the matter was closed.

Augusta gestured with her hand for him to continue. There was a long silence before he spoke again.

“I’m afraid that the information that I need to share with you is very sensitive and requires an Unbreakable Vow,” he said slowly and deliberately.

Augusta’s eyes flashed. “I bloody well think not.”

“Lady Longbottom, this is a matter of the utmost importance. I can’t leave any room for this information to get out,” Dumbledore said pleadingly.

“You will not come into my home, unannounced, interrogate my grandson and demand of me an Unbreakable Vow,” her voice was completely level, completely devoid of emotion and ice cold.

“Lady Longbottom I must insist. Your grandson-”

“Get out,” she hissed, standing and pointing towards the door. Neville shrank back from her without the need to fake any emotion. She was terrifying.

Dumbledore didn’t move. “Fine,” he said. “Perhaps, for this discussion, we should ask Neville to leave us.”

“ _ We _ will do no such thing,” she said calmly, but she did not sit down.

Dumbledore just sat there for another moment before saying, “Harry Potter is dead.”

Neville gasped in horror, while mentally patting himself on the back. Augusta was furious, Neville wasn’t even sure if she was pretending. She knew that it was at least partially Dumbledore’s fault that Harry Potter, now Ash, was abused at Number 4.

“Harry Potter was a part of a prophecy that for told of Voldemort’s defeat,” Nether Augusta or Neville flinched at the mention of the Name which seemed to give Dumbledore pause. “It spoke of one who was to be born as the seventh month dies and who would defeat the Dark Lord.”

Augusta was so furious she was completely still.

“I thought that Harry Potter killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Neville said quietly.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and opened her mouth to speak more when Augusta cut him off.

“Get out,” she didn’t point, she didn’t even look at him.

Dumbledore’s face darkened. “Lady Augusta-”

“Get out! Don’t come back. I don't want to hear a word from you. And I want you  _ far _ away from Neville!”

He didn’t move.

“If you don’t leave I will call the DMLE,” Augusta’s voice was just above a whisper.

Dumbledore gave her a pitting look as if he was sorry that she couldn't understand him. In one movement that belied his age, he got up and left the room.

There was a long pause after he left. “Should I tell-?” Neville began but was swiftly cut off.

“Not a word, dear,” She turned and looked at him. “To  _ anyone _ .”

Neville just nodded.

The rest of the day was torture. His Gran had locked herself in the Lady’s office, something he, just like his father, would never own because of his gender. He just moved around the house, looking for something to keep himself occupied.

It had been some time that he had last been here. There was some nostalgic part of his brain that claimed it to be home. Even though he hadn’t lived here since the attack. He turned into what was supposed to be his bedroom.

The walls were covered in fine blue wallpaper and the floor was covered with all types of junk items. He grimaced. His room in Mucro would never hold half as much stuff as was lying on the floor. Absently, he wondered if when the house elves dusted the room, whether or not they picked up every item to clean beneath and put it back exactly where they found it. The thought made him smile as he closed the door.

There was a lot that he needed to think about.

_ Ash _

After Neville had abruptly disappeared. Ash spent the rest of the day looking at the runic textbooks without reading them. Kalum had made them breakfast with cheery comments that just put him on edge. There was little he could do, he knew, because whatever had Augusta so frantic he doubted he had the power anything. But he hated not knowing. He hated sitting in his favourite spot in the library and not seeing someone across from him. I made him feel alone. 

Then, he came back and he didn't know what to think. Neville was fine. Normal even. But Ash knew better than most how much Neville could deceive people. And Neville seemed almost… scared. Neville had sat down on the edge of Ash’s bed. He had returned late.

Ash supposed that Augusta had let him sleepover, though he didn't look like he was ready for bed. He was still wearing the tattered and filthy gardening clothes he had put on earlier that day. There was little that Ash could do to console him, so he would just listen. 

And so he did. For an hour he listened to his story. Neville told of Dumbledore, of how the Dumbledore was how he made him feel and how. In the end, he spoke of something that he could not say. Something, he gathered had to deal with Ash. Something that Dumbledore now wanted Neville to do and when Ash pressed him for more information Neville just shook his head and said that he was told not to say anything.

There was a silence after that. Ash sat there and thought about what and who was telling him not to say anything. He doubted that it was the visitor. Augusta, then. So why was she restricting his knowledge on this? When, if ever, would he know? 

He and Neville had secrets. It was the foundation of their relationship, to provide a listening ear. There were many things that he didn't tell Neville. And, he thought, there were probably some things that Neville hadn’t told him. 

“Would you like a change of clothes?” Ash asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. There was another pause. 

“Sure,” he said. Ash rolled off his beanbag chair and went over to his wardrobe under his elevated bunk. He pulled out a sleeping dark blue sleeping robe and handed it to Neville. He gave him a grateful smile and stripped down.

They had had many sleepovers during the times that he had been living in Mucro. Neville knew of his safe space under the bed. He had woken Ash up from a gripping nightmare more than once and Ash had relished the comfort as Neville had talked him down from his blind panic.

Neville had nightmares too. Ash had seen him, eyes shut tightly, mouth open in a silent scream. Ash had shaken him awake and he had been momentarily paralyzed by the terror written over Neville’s face. It was gone in a second. The only indication of  _ anything _ was the tears in the corners of his eye. Neville had never spoken of it and Ash never pushed. It had never happened again, in any case. But looking at the state of Neville now, Ash couldn’t help but wonder if it would happen again.

Ash helped Neville climb up the rungs of the latter up to his bed. Neville’s whole body screamed tiredness even though his eyes were sharp and awake.

Ash’s bed ran from one side of the wall to the other and the mattress was too small for the space, so he and Kalum had cut a piece of foam and stuffed it at the foot of the bed. It was in moments like these that he appreciated it because he and Neville could sleep without touching each other’s toes.

After Neville had gathered a makeshift pillow from Ash’s safe place, he settled down and closed his eyes. Ash wanted to say something, but Neville was so quiet and he did not want to be the one to disturb the silence. After a long while, he heard soft snoring and he too tried to go to sleep.

Neville and Ash walked out of the bedroom to find that Kalum had already started to make breakfast. Neville had always made a fuss about oatmeal, much to Ash’s amusement. He said that it was not real food and had grumbled his way through half a bowl.

Whenever Neville had slept over in the past, Kalum had always been strange and awkward around Neville. Ash thought that Kalum was the best guardian that he had ever had, but the conversation from two nights ago floated into his head and he resisted a frown.

Neville had seemed more tired than he usually would and Ash couldn’t help but stare at him. Like he could catch Neville’s attention by sheer force of will. It wasn’t just Neville that was acting strange, Ash thought. Kalum was just staring at his breakfast.

Ash felt the niggling despair that they were keeping secrets, that no one trusted him, that they didn’t want him around and firmly pushed it out of his head.

“So,” Ash began, spooning another bite into his mouth. “Does anyone care to tell me what is going on?”

Kalum jolted at the sound of his voice and Neville just grew more withdrawn. There was a long pause where Ash just scowled at his bowl and resisted the urge to swing his legs back and forth. Neville was good at keeping secrets, but he was always able to know that there was something that he was hiding. Kalum on the other hand was horrible at keeping things to himself. Which he found surprising for someone working for a part of what was basically the French Department of Mysteries.

“So,” he said again. “Dumbledore.” He breathed the word with reverence and watched in delight as Neville’s face blanked and Kalum flinched.

There was another long pause before Neville said, “he thinks you are dead.”

“And?” Ash pressed, this was not new. Nacarat had said that Dumbledore would think him dead because they had taken the wards off of his scar. “That shouldn’t be new news.”

“We will talk about it later,” Kalum said firmly, the little flick of his eyes towards Neville told Ash why.

“Fine,” Ash relented. He hated being left in the dark. Neville at least seemed apologetic.

“Oliver invited us to come to his office later today,” Kalum looked at him like he thought Ash would burst into tears at the mention of where he had had a panic attack.

“And, what, will be discussed?” Irritation was making its self known in Ash’s voice. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what Neville won’t tell me, does it?”

Silence.

“Right,” he said, getting swiftly to his feet. “I will be at the Training Playground.” He gave them all a hard look, “If any of you desire to talk about  _ anything _ important. I will be there until lunch.”

The training area was one of Ash’s favourite places to be. He loved the large wooded structure that resembled a playground. He sometimes climbed from one wall to another, scaling the walls, and casting spells at the dummies that were set up for the Mucro classes.

He had watched the classes from a distance. It was very intimidating. Each class had no more than 7 people, they were all at least six years older than he was, and great at magic. Augusta had said to leave the students alone, and let them study. But that didn’t stop him from sitting in one of the trees and watching them practice.

From what he could tell, they were playing capture the flag. The red team was winning by the look of it.

In all the time that he had watched them from the trees, imitated their moves and researched the spells. He always found it curious to see what kind of clothing they would wear. Mucro taught scholars and politicians, but it also taught undercover agents and assassins. The clothing they were wearing was modelled off of business suits. The tight pieces of clothing were limiting their movements, he could tell, he had watched more than one fall off of the building and land in the faded cushioning charms below. He smiled as Red caught another member of Blue and locked him in the Tower.

“It’s fun to watch, isn’t it,” a voice said from below him.

He looked below him to see Silver, standing in her grey cloak watching the events with a board expression.

Ash just looked at her.

The blue team managed to get on top of the Tower and open the hatch at the very top. They let a rope and began to get their team out.

“Do you want to play?” She asked, and shrugged when he made a strangled sound of protest.

“Why are you talking to me?” he asked sharper than he intended.

She looked at the Blue team get stunned as they were running away from Red’s base.

“Call it curiosity,” she said, and Ash knew that he wouldn’t get anything else out of her.

They watched as Red levitated all of the members of Blue into the Tower and removed the rope. As two other members of the team ran into blue’s base to take down their last member and steal the flag.

“Can I show you how to do that?” she asked, pointing at the remaining blue member as he did some sideways flip to get away from the approaching team. He sent a stunning spell from behind cover and dashed off again. All the while dodging the spells the others were sending at him and sent one of his own, which hit one of the red. With one of his opponents down and the playing field more even, he turned and started firing spells at Red. Red created a shield that blocked most of them, but she didn’t start firing any spells of her own. Ash could tell that she was much younger than her counterpart. Blue broke through her shield and stunned her.

“Really?” he asked. Watching Blue levitate both of their bodies and put them in blue’s tower. Ask knew that she must have some alternate agenda to be wanting to get close to him. He was Harry Potter, as much as he vowed to get as far away from that name for as long as possible.

She just gave an indifferent shrug. “Why not.” Ash didn’t say anything to that.

They watched as the last blue tried to run and free his captive teammates. He didn’t even make it 4 feet out of his cover before he was stunned. Silver watched impassively as Red team broke out into cheers of delight.

“Do they ever learn how to use muggle weapons?” Ash asked.

“Not really, they know the basics. How to identify them, how to disassemble them, how to defuse them, how to fire them and how to clean them,” she smiled. “If you want to talk to someone about muggle weapons, talk to Nacarat.” She looked like if she was any less professional, she would roll her eyes. “He is... insane.”

They watched the Red team go back into the classroom with smiles on their faces. Blue team was slightly subdued. They were all chatting happely between them. Laughing and cleaning up cuts and drinking small viles of potions. 

Ash followed Silver cautiously as she lead them down to what was the Blue Tower. He hadn’t seen it before, but at the base of the tower was a trampoline. Without hesitation, Silver walked onto it and gestured for him to do the same.

“Right,” She said in a drawl. “First I need to teach you how to do a flip, you will jump up not forward and curl into a tight ball. This should give you enough momentum to spin.” She demonstrated with a tight flip of her own.

Ash hesitantly bounced a few times before trying what she did and fell flat on his face with an “Umph.” He rolled over and got up off of his knees.

“Jump higher,” she said. He did so and this time he fell off his back. “A slight improvement.” She nodded at him. “Try again.”

And he did so. For the next few minutes, he tried, failed and got up. They had been working for around a quarter of an hour before he managed to land on his feet. He had lost balance instantly fell forwards. But it had left him with a smile on his face and an encouraging nod from Silver.

After she had seen perform to some standard, she had promptly ordered him off of the trampoline and to do it on the slightly cushioned grounds. Ash looked at the trampled upon the grass that stood firm under his shoes. “And if I fall flat on my face?” he asked.

“You won’t,” she answered.

Ash scowled. “And why not?”

“Because,” she said, an almost humorous expression on her face. “I would hurt.”

The next few minutes were spent with Ash rubbing his tail bone. After the 7th time, he managed to land on his feet before falling backwards and onto the ground.

Almost one hour later, a bruised, but smiling Ash made his way back home to Kalum. He opened the door and saw that Kalum was not yet back home. He had asked Kalum in the past if he could go with him, just for the day to see what his office looked like. Kalum had answered in the negative, much to Ash’s disappointment and had never brought it up. It was in moments like these that he wished that he could go and see him whenever he wanted.

Ash turned and walked into the kitchen, there were some leftover noodles from yesterday and he put it into the oven. It would take at least 5 minutes for it to warm up, so he sat himself down on the sofa and observed the book laying on the table. It took him a few moments to figure out the implications of the book, and in the end, it only left him with more questions.

_ A Beginners Guide to Occlumency. _

He turned at the sound of the door opening and Ash turned to see Kalum walking into the apartment. Kalum was wearing the dark blue robe that all members of his office wore. He smiled at Ash when he saw him and Ash smiled back.

“Leftovers?” he asked as he sniffed the aim. Ash nodded absently.

“Not that, I don’t want to see you, but why are you here?”

“This was the time that was the soonest that Oliver could book off for us. I didn’t want to wait for tomorrow?” Kalum said as he removed his tie and outer coat and put them on top of one of the dining room chairs.

“You took half a day off for this meeting,” Ash asked in surprise. He was grateful, but this just left him more worried. Whatever was going on it was more serious than he had anticipated. He looked down at the book on the table. A lot more serious.

“Of course,” He said. “You are very important to me, Ash.” Ash smiled unabashedly at that. “Now, I know that we didn’t get to talking about this earlier, but honestly I hadn’t come to terms with it myself. It was a big shock, you see. And not that the Guild and the Unspeakables know about it, well. They have been pushing me into teaching you. One of those things is that.” He nodded in the direction of the book on the table. Kalum’s face turned uneasy. “I am still not comfortable with you learning Occlumency. I think that it will cause more problems than it will solve.”

Ash kind of saw Kalum’s point, but he also was curious. And he really wanted to learn about the mind arts.

“After you finish eating, we will go,” he gave Ash a reassuring smile and excused himself and went to the loo. Ash just looked at the cover of the book. It was clearly old, it was cracking in one of the corners, but other than that it looked well taken care of. The title inlaid with some silver and it was bound in a lighter leather. He tried to open it to the first page, but it remained shut. Ash had never seen a warded book before, but he had read about them.

The oven let out a small ding and Ash got his feet. He quickly ate the food and saw that Kalum had gotten out of the bathroom and was making himself a cup of tea. After he had finished, he grabbed his coat and put on his shoes.

Winter still grabbed the land with an iron fist. He was happy that magic existed to keep it off of some of the areas. But it was still very cold. They made their way towards the headquarters and for the first time, Ash realized that he would be doing it without Neville.

A cold knot that felt suspiciously like worry formed in the pit of his stomach. “You’re scared,” Kalum observed. Ash thought about denying it. He nodded.

“A bit,” He said and Kalum gave him a reassuring look.

“Don’t worry, I will not let them do anything to you that you don’t like?” Kalum said. Ash knew that. But he still liked to hear him say it.

Headquarters was empty except for Felix Trampe sitting behind the receptionist’s desk with an irritated expression. They sat down in the chairs and for the first time Ash asked a question that had been on his mind.

“Why isn’t this place guarded?” He said.

Kalum gave him a conspiratory look.”Oh, but it is.”

Ash looked around for cameras or secret doors, of which, he knew, he would find none. Kalum laughed at him and gestured with his eyes to the man behind the desk. Ash’s eyes grew with understanding. “Really?” he asked.

“He is one of the best,” Kalum said. Ash was going to ask another question when he was interrupted.

“Mister Grayson, please head down the end of the corridor,” Felix Tramp didn't even look up at them when he spoke.

As they walked into the room and sitting around the table was Oliver, still wearing his grey robe. Nacarat wasn’t there, to Ash’s surprise, of all of the people he expected to be there. He was at the top, right behind Oliver.

Silver was there, however, she was wearing an expression of indifference and only offered him a small smile.

“Welcome back,” Oliver said. “There is much to discuss.” He looked over at Kalum. “What have you told him?”

Kalum’s mouth thinned in annoyance. “I thought it better to inform him all at once as I am still foggy on some of the details.”

Ash felt like fidgeting as everyone’s attention landed on him. Oliver was the one who spoke first. “In 1980 there was a prophecy that was made about you and the Dark Lord that made Tom Riddle attack you and your family in Godricks hollow. The Chef overseer of the Division of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries says that there is indeed a prophecy made about someone and that was assumed to be you. It was made to Albus Dumbledore and was uttered by Sibble Trelawney during her interview for a Hogwarts teaching post. This is the same reason that Albus Dumbledore approached Professor Longbottom. He wanted Young Mister Longbottom to fill in for you while you were presumed dead or missing.”

“What does the prophecy say?” Ash asked.

“I don’t know. Only the person to whom the Prophecy is uttered and to whom it is about can pick up and hear the recording of the Prophecy,” Oliver said. “We can make some educated guesses. We think that it says something about defeating the Dark Lord. We think that one of the qualifications include age. And we think that both Dumbledore and Riddle have put their faith in the Prophecy.”

There was a long silence. “You think that Ash will have to defeat him?” Kalum’s voice was shrill.

“There is no 'have to' with Prophecy, Mr. Grayson. The power of Prophecy is dictated by only those who have faith in it. Both Dumbledore and exactly Voldemort have, so it is unlikely that this will go unignored.”

“And if I wanted us to get out of the country and, say, move to Canada?” Ash’s heart sank. This was the only other place he had considered home.

Oliver gave him a sad smile. “We wouldn’t try to stop you, Mr. Grayson. We could get you set up with new identities in a new country,” When Kalum looked seconds away from saying that that was exactly what he wanted. “Don’t get too excited. Our connection with MACUSA is... limited. We would have to go through the DOM or the Immigration office. And it would be very hard to go through the French ministry as you aren't a citizen. That means that there is a paper trail leading straight to you, which I assure you, can be followed. If you were ever recognized, and you as much as you try not to be detected, it is extremely likely that you will at some point in your life. And then you will have the full force of both the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters after you. And we would be far too far away for us to help.”

He smiled sadly at the pair. “I will give you a few days to come to a final decision, but honestly, you are safest here.”

“And what would you have him do while he is here?” Kalum asked shrewdly.

It was Silver who spoke. “He would be trained, of course,” She just gave Kalum a look when it was clear he was about to protest. “No matter what he chooses, he will need to defend himself. If he decides to leave the Guild after he becomes of age, he can. He will just have the training to protect himself if trouble arises.”

“But you wouldn’t him to leave after you spent all of those resources training him, would you?” Kalum’s voice was accusatory.

“No,” she said simply.

Kalum looked as if Silver had confessed to plotting murder.

“I would like to know what I would be taught,” Ash said suddenly. Silver turned his attention back to him. “You would be instructed in magic, combat, tactics, diplomacy, mind arts, physical fitness, healing, history and stealth.” Ash’s eyes positively lit up with excitement.

“You want him to go through the Assassin’s program?!” Kalum had stood up and was pointing at Silver.

“The Assassin’s program is the most advanced -” She began.

“I will not have my ward be trained to murder!” he cut through the air with a violent gesture.

“He does not have to become an Assassin,” she said, her voice firm. “That is not our intention. I will not make child soldiers.”

That seemed to mollify Kalum for the moment.

“I?” Ash asked, sounding suppressed. “You mean  _ you  _ want to teach me?”

She gave him a sharp nod and said nothing else.

“If I am trained, I want Neville to be too,” he said. Then added before any objections could be raised. “Neville plans to go to Hogwarts anyway, so you wouldn’t train him fully. It- it would be nice to do it with someone my age.”

He glanced down in embarrassment. While Silver and Oliver looked at each other contemplatively. “That shouldn’t be an issue on my end,” she said.

“The only one who might object would be Professor Longbottom,” Oliver said, leaning back in her chair. “I will call her if we reach a decision and I think-” He looked at his watch. “That she goes on break in about half an hour.”

Kalum looked at his charge. “Fine,” he said. “But I reserve the right to pull him out of this whenever I see fit.”

That they agreed on.

“Absolutely not,” Augusta Longbottom said when she had come in later. She had listened to Oliver’s proposal without interruption amidst an increasingly sour expression on her face. She turned to Kalum. “I’m surprised that you bothered to listen to this idiocy, let alone go along with it.”

“I’m just doing what I think is best for Ash,” he said softly. “He is the one who asked for Neville, ‘said that he wanted to do someone at his skill level.”

She turned to look at Ash, who swallowed. Augusta sighed. “And why exactly do want to do this yourself?”

Ash looked at her in surprise as if he hadn’t expected his opinion to be taken into consideration. “Well, Neville and I have been looking at all of the books in the library and, well, we have done most of the basic and harmless stuff already, and I think that we need a teacher. And well, they offered, and said that we could stop at any time. And Neville, well, he is going into Hogwarts, later, anyway, so I just thought that, well, um...” He sighed and looked at the floor. “I just want to be with my friend.”

Augusta just looked at him with pity, he knew it with out having to look up, and he resisted the urge to scowl. He instead kept his gaze on the floor, as if ashamed. The whole conversation was very uncomfortable, but not for the same reasons everyone else thought. He was begging and he hated to beg. It reminded him far too much of the Dursleys.

“Neville will attend for one week,” she said reluctantly. “One week, and I’ll decide whether or not to go along with this charade.”

Ash smiled as he resisted jumping up and down in excitement. Neville would be over the moon.

  
  
  



End file.
